Barrett's Privateers
by Capt'n Martius
Summary: This is a slightly revised (very slightly) version of a story I wrote and posted on BT universe a couple years back. As I'm in the process of mapping out a new original story, I thought I'd pitch this one up here and solicit some feedback/criticism. The story is now complete, anyone kind enough to provide a review I thank you in advance :)
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

Excerpt from _Abandon all hope – Welcome to Astrokaszy_ a documentary on life on Astrokaszy produced December 3058. Commentator Dr. Mike Hanjahov takes the viewer on the roller coaster ride of twists and turns that leads us to life in the present on Astrokaszy.

…

_**After the fall of the Martian Hegemony, things on Astrokaszy descended back into dark times where lawlessness and criminals ruled. Violent crime became the norm and the lack of civilized legal system created an environment where the wealthy, and socially deviant, could indulge in their uninhibited fantasies. The few sultans and caliphs that did exist used their militaries and hired mercenaries to secure their positions and create small fiefdoms, each competing to become the darkest den of depravity.**_

_**Since none of these "kings of the desert" could agree on a formalized central system of government, the result was sadly predictable. Much like the problems faced in the Inner Sphere, they would engage in skirmishes from time to time, but neither of them possessed the ability to overthrow the others. Fear of attack, or being overthrown from within, prevented even the most powerful of the sultans from committing any real force to an attack. Also, none of these leaders ever possessed enough wealth to hire a force large enough to win out over their counterparts. (One exception to this was the Ajam war, circa 3055. The supplementary documentary from this series titled prisoners of fate – the Ajam conflict, covers this topic in-depth.) In addition to these facts, rumors have circulated that the very powerful criminal organizations on Astrokaszy also played a key role in this continued instability.**_

_**It is commonly held that the leaders of these organizations, known as "Khalifat of Tazi" to the locals, had no interest in the creation of a central government. They considered the instability essential to their continued operation. At the time it was rumored that these "Khalifat of Tazi" used their considerable influence to spread constant rumors of plots against each of the ruling sultans and caliphs. These rumors would usually revolve around either internal uprising movements or plots from other leaders. Whether these allegations were true or not, these rumors of unrest proved to be quite effective at keeping the local leaders from engaging in anything more than a simple raid. But, as with all things on Astrokaszy, this precarious balance would not last longer than a few years. **_

_**As is often the case in the Periphery, particularly in Astrokaszy's history, any sign of wealth or opportunity draws unwanted attention. In this case, the unwanted attentions of Pirate Ivan Vondrasek.**_

_**While the exact origins of Ivan "the despicable" Vondrasek and his pirate band, Prince's Bane, are not known, their reputation, is well known, and feared, throughout the region of the Periphery. It is thought that the depravity on Astrokaszy had finally reached a point in 3057 that it caught the eye of the ruthless pirate.**_

_**Avoiding Astrokaszy City, Ivan Vondrasek and his band choose Paradise City, then ruled by one of Astrokaszy's most powerful and benevolent Sultans, Omar Bin Amar. Vondrasek had at his command a full battalion of BattleMechs along with supporting conventional troops, and while these forces were only at or below 3025 technology standards, as measured by those in the Inner Sphere, he vastly out gunned the Sultan, and indeed the collective forces on Astrokaszy at the time. Living up to his reputation he destroyed half of Paradise City during his invasion, without apparent cause, and then proceeded to execute all members of the ruling families. He also managed to find and execute all the "Khalifat of Tazi" and their respective organizations within the city. He then formally announced the creation of the Vondrasek Protectorate.**_

_**Without the forces to stop Vondrasek individually and out of tremendous fear of their new neighbor the remaining Sultans and Caliphs put aside their differences and formed the first central governing body in over 10 years. In a strange twist of fate, it is recorded that it was the "Khalifat of Tazi" who arranged the meetings between the leaders and presided over the proceedings.**_

…


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

**East of the Oasis Forest, Astrokaszy**

**Vondrasek protectorate****  
****Periphery ****  
****6 June 3059**

**15:24:07 localtime (mid-day)**

Thick black smoke bellowed from the burnt-out hulk of a 60-ton Rifleman, 20 meters in front of Captain Allen Martius' Battlemaster, as he crested the low dune. Allen guided his Battlemaster up the remainder of the shifting dune in long even strides to come to a full stop at the top. Below him the battlefield was taking shape according to plan, with the exception of that one rogue Rifleman Allen mused. Allen had caught the Rifleman from behind after the warrior had strayed from his unit.

The smoke from the burning wreck completely concealed the battlefield from his view screen, however the Heads Up Display drew the picture with exacting detail. The smoke had the added bonus of concealing Martius from casual observation. Tactical systems would as easily paint his 'Mech on the enemies HUD as they appeared on his, but it is human nature to overlook things that you can't see with your own eyes. Everything is ready, or should be. But… better be sure

"All units, this is leader. What's your status people?"

"One is green," Jessica Strissel, the unit's XO, was first to respond. typical

"Lancer is green."

"Hopper is go."

… The unit ran down the muster until lastly …

"Reverend is ready to deliver the savages." Allen smiled and shook his head underneath his neurohelmet. John "the Reverend" Walkins, the units moral fiber was an odd Mechwarrior to say the least. Formerly a fire and brim stone Baptist minister, now a Warhammer pilot. How he resolves the paradox of his strict Baptist beliefs verses his association with a group of hell bound sinners was a continual topic of debate within the unit.

"Leader, this is Hopper," Johnsten Holst is the unit's youngest Mechwarrior, after Allen himself, and the self-appointed morale officer. Many in the unit thought that he could make a much better living as a stand up comedian. "According to my sensors they've got us cornered and out numbered 3 to 1…"

Wait for it…

"Don't you think we should give them the opportunity to surrender?"

There it is Before Allen could respond however…

"WHAT?! An' ruin all my fun?!" Douglas Wallace responded in his strong Australian accent, "You keep your mouth shut! They can surrender after I've shot them up a bit!"

"Easy Dingo, I just figured …" Hopper began.

"CUT THE CHATTER!" Jess commanded before Hopper and Dingo could continue their debate.

Allen laughed to himself. Hopper had a point though. No one observing this battle would call the scenario that was taking shape a brilliant battle plan. In fact, all indications pointed to a small unit that has been hunted down and caught out in the open by an over whelming force. The other seven battlemechs of Allen's unit, the Barrett's Privateers, were spread out on the foothills leading up to the Oasis Forest, a strange anomaly on the desert planet of Astrokaszy. The Privateer Mechwarriors were apparently trying desperately to keep moving and survive a brutal assault.

The core of this small group was Allen's command lance that included, aside from Allen's Battlemaster, a Warhammer, a Marauder and a monstrous Atlas. The remaining four Privateer 'Mechs on the field made up Striker lance, which consisted of a Shadow Hawk, a Phoenix Hawk, a Jenner and a Wasp. All of whom were moving a full run while sniping at the incoming forces.

Opposite them, just emerging out from under the cover of the massive 100 meter high trees of the Oasis Forest, was a force of 24 'Mechs, minus the Rifleman, amongst them only 4 were considered "light", weighing only 20 to 35 tons. Most of these aggressors were heavy or assault class. The things didn't look good for the Privateers.

The gambling houses of Solaris VII would have given us less than 100 to 1 odds, mused Allen. Yet, despite the appearances, Allen was very pleased. Just a few more seconds and they'll be in position, he thought.

Amid the general melee one particular exchange caught Allen's eye. An ancient and battle worn Thunderbolt lobed a flight of long range missiles at the Privateers' Atlas and followed up with it's large laser. Many of the missiles went wide, creating a sand storm that momentarily hid the giant 'Mech from view. Those that did hit pocketed the Atlas' chest, followed an instant later by the powerful laser. Armor melted and ran away in streams down the front of the Atlas.

None of this even slowed the mighty war machine however. The sight of the Atlas emerging from the swirling sand, like some mythical monster now bent on revenge, amplified the sinister effect of the "Deaths head" cockpit assembly, creating a nightmare image. Judging by the sudden reversal of the Thunderbolt, now back peddling as fast as the 'Mech would allow, the Tbold pilot thought the same thing. Allen guessed that Mechwarrior was feeling the true fear experienced by those unfortunate enough to draw the attention of one of these goliaths since they were first introduced onto the modern battlefield. Before the inevitable slaughter began, Allen thought that this poor warrior didn't know the half of it. Mechwarrior Wendy Davis is one of the Privateers' best pilots, and her Atlas was recently upgraded to the AS7-9SA variant, at great expense but with tremendous results.

After a dramatic pause, the response came with all the vigor that Allen had been expecting. A depleted uranium Gauss slug shot across the gap between the war machines, as though hungry for the kill, splintering the armor on the Thunderbolt's right shoulder. The unfortunate Tbolt pilot was caught mid-step with his right leg still in the air and his left leg planted. The force from the blow spun the 'Mech almost completely around, exposing the weaker rear armor. Thirty medium range missiles were already on their way to their target before the spin was complete and delivered their full fury into the rear of the 'Mech. The warrior was so caught off guard that he was still backing up, into the on coming missiles!

Allen's sensors described the scene, as all the Tbolt's rear armor was blasted to shreds and the remaining missiles tore thru the delicate inner machinery of the 'Mech. Heat and power spikes told the tale of lost heat sinks and damage to the engine shielding. From the way the 'Mech was suddenly shuddering Allen didn't need his battle computer to tell him that there was gyroscope damage as well.

Finishing her relentless assault, Wendy didn't even allow the last missiles to finish their destructive work before she cut loose with the Extended Range large laser in her 'Mech's left arm. Her aim was impeccable as the remaining magnetic containment shielding disintegrated and the completely uncontained fusion reactor exploded spectacularly. The pilot never ejected.

This display seemed to have earned Wendy a new respect from the opposing forces, who were now scrambling to get out of the way less they become the next smoldering stain on the battlefield. Allen smiled as he considered the truth of the words emblazoned on the upper right arm and chest of that Atlas. Hot, Strong, and Sweet.

Three weeks of battle has come down to this Allen reflected. The forces of Warlord Ivan Vondrasek still don't know the true purpose that brought the Privateers here to Astrokaszy.

Not that you could tell that by their response. They have been throwing everything they have at us since we made planet fall. No doubt, after today, Colonel Yanskoff (military leader for Warlord Vondrasek) will have a great deal of explaining to do when he has to stand in front of the Warlord and explain how he lost a whole battalion Allen thought.

If he gets to stand in front of him that is

Over the past three weeks the Privateers have kept moving and fighting on their own terms. The good Warlord has lost a full company of 'Mechs, much of their ground support including two platoons of troops, several tanks, and two aerospace fighters already. At least it looks like the Colonel is keeping the fighters out of the mix today Allen thought as he checked his sensors and visually scanned the horizon. I'll bet up until yesterday Yanskoff never considered the possibility of loosing aerospace fighters to VTOLs. Allen surveyed the battlefield once more.

It's time. They're in position.

Allen brought his right arm, which mounted an Extended Range PPC, up to bear on the nearest 'Mech, a 65 ton Archer which was manoeuvring into position at a full run, ignoring Allen who was still shrouded in smoke. It had burst into view a few minutes ago after emerging from around the 25-meter base of a tree, just down the slope from Allen's position. The Archer twisted it's upper torso wildly trying to bring it's weapons to bear on this new foe. People may ignore a stationary HUD image of a 'Mech they can't see, but the solid tone of a weapons lock is lost on no one. "Tag, you're it" commented Allen to the image on his HUD, as man made lighting arched from Martius' PPC across the battlefield and struck the Archer in the hip. Allen quickly followed up with four medium pulse lasers, one went wide but the others all converged on the 'Mech's left arm that went spinning off and buried itself in the sand.

The Battlemaster's double heat sinks struggled to dissipate the heat from launching the attack in the scorching daytime temperatures that were normal on Astrokaszy. The Archer pilot fired his medium lasers wide as he fought to keep the 65-ton giant from toppling over. The blast to the hip, and the sudden loss of the weight from the left arm appeared to be too much for the pilot as the 'Mech went down hard on it's chest. Not good, for a 'Mech with a chest mounted cockpit jutting out from the body thought Allen as he took a moment to scan the field again. It's time to issue the signal. But as Allen reached for the switch that would emit the pre-programmed signal for his trap to spring, an urgent voice blared in his ear.

"Fox leader, this is Brier Watch. TANGO SIERRA! REPEAT. TANGO SIERRA!"

"Brier Watch, this is Fox leader. Feed me." The incoming secure channel indicator flared to life on Allen's communications console. Allen reached over and hit the correct button sequence to bring up and decode the incoming data stream, while quickly glancing at his scanners to make sure it was safe to look away. The Archer was still down but sensors indicated that the cockpit was still intact, perhaps the pilot is unconscious. Two windows appeared on Allen's HUD, one showing a radar tracking image of a disturbing number of incoming DropShips, the second showing a live camera view of the same ships under extreme magnification.

Damn! They were coming in hard, the flame trails pointed at the ground were nearly twice as long as the ships and getting longer. Which meant that they were pulling some serious G's. Radar tagged 15 ships of various classes, but any of the Overlord class ships amongst them could carry up to a Battalion of 'Mechs by itself!

Allen thought fast, these can't be Warlord Vondrasek's troops. If He'd had this kind of army he'd have made a play for the whole planet. It doesn't make sense that he'd have any supporters with this kind of fire power either. Certainly one of the Inner Sphere houses could be supporting a bid for the planet, but I doubt that even Sun-Tzu would be crazy enough to back Vondrasek.

A glance over the comm. windows confirmed what Allen already knew. Yanskoff's forces were breaking off in disarray as they were, no doubt, becoming aware of this new development.

"Fox leader this is Fox One, the Tangos are attempting to break off. We could probably wipe them out before those DropShips get here, if we spring on them now."

Allen smiled and shook his head, under his neurohelmet. Jess never seemed to miss a beat. From his vantage point Allen easily spotted her Marauder stalking the retreating 'Mechs, as the rest of the Privateers joined Jess in the charge. All manner of weapons fire exacted a vicious toll on Vondrasek's forces, as though punishing them for daring to attempt a disorganized retreat.

"Negative Fox One," responded Allen, "with an incoming force of that size we'll need all our strength … "

At that moment another incoming comm light flared into being on his console, this one was unencrypted. The comm tracking indicated a 70-ton Warhammer located 200 meters from his position, a 'Mech he had come to know well.

"Hang on Fox One, it seems Colonel Yanskoff wants to have a word."

Allen switched over to the open comm channel, but tied in Jessica's comm so she could listen in. No doubt Ryan Praska, the Privateers security officer and weapons master, would be already listening in using his own methods from his concealed location on the battlefield.

"Yes Colonel?" said Allen as he turned his Battlemaster to face the Warhammer.

Allen switched over weapons control to his targeting computer, leaving one pulse laser locked on the downed Archer in case the Mechwarrior came around, and brought all other forward weapons to bear on the Colonel's Warhammer. That ought to get him thinking about what to say next, thought Allen. Better to keep the Colonel off balance by reminding him of the technological advantage the Privateers had over him.

Just 8 'Mechs, with conventional support, had kept the Colonel's battalion busy for the past three weeks and had downed a third of their number in the process. The Barrett's Privateers were a small merc company who often worked both in the Inner Sphere and out in the Periphery. As such, Allen had been able to upgrade the 'Mechs and equipment in his command. Perhaps not to Clan or Star League Defense Force standards, but certainly well above the technology available to a petty Periphery warlord like Vondrasek and his cronies.

"Well, either you are the advance force for a planetary take-over, or were both about to get wiped from the universe." The Colonel sounded distinctly like an ancient earth pirate captain from one of those bad holovids. At least he was getting right too the point. Good no beating around the bush.

"What do you purpose?" Allen replied in a tone purposely half-way between sarcastic and bored.

A sudden blaring light on his console informed Allen that his Security Chief was ready and in full support of Jessica's last proposal. Allen took his two senior officer's recommendations very seriously, but in this case he responded by reaching over to his comm. console and entering the codes to order his command to break off their current attack but remain ready, as Colonel Yanskoff cut in again.

"We don't have much time, let's you and I dismount and discuss some kind of arrangement."

"I'm not here for planetary defence Yanskoff," said Allen dryly.

"True, but dead mercs don't get paid. Unless you think you can complete whatever it is you came for and get out this system before that force or their DropShips catch up with you. Assuming that they don't already have your JumpShip, that is."

Despite the sarcasm the Colonel sounded like the strain of this new development was playing on him. The Colonel had a point though, another quick look at the streaming data on his HUD told Allen that there was very little time left for this banter.

"Ok, Colonel. Let's talk, I'll meet you half way."

Allen paced his Battlemaster to ensure that they meet not quite half way, but in just the right location.

"Brier Watch, this is Fox leader, what have you got?" Allen was making the best of the few minutes it took to march to the meeting place by punching up the comm channel to his scout units.

"Judging from those burn trails, they're definitely coming in fully loaded. Based on the size of the load they're carrying, which our battle computer and sensors peg at least 3 'Mech regiments plus support, I doubt this is a raid, not on Astrokaszy. I'm guessing that this is an invasion of some kind. They're a mixed group, maybe pirates or mercenaries 'cause each ship seems to be pushing the envelope trying to be the first on the ground. Of course they could be Clan, but the DropShips are Inner Sphere types and burn profiles."

Clans! There's a comforting thought

"Either way," Brier Watch continued, "best guess, based on trajectory, puts their drop zone at 65 kilometers east of here. ETA… 50 minutes."

"Roger Watch, keep an eye on them and let me know if anything changes. Leader out."

50 minutes to the ground, a little over an hour at top speed to here if we're on their route, plus unload time … unless they are Clan, then they might be on their way to us in less than 30 minutes before those ships even ground! This ought to be interesting thought Allen, as he went about removing his neurohelmet and dismounting the 12 meter tall giant war machine. All the while watching to ensure his esteemed "host" didn't try anything funny.

"Fox One, keep a close watch on our friends."

"Roger, already got it covered," was Jess' only response. Typical

"Well?" demanded Colonel Yanskoff as he approached Allen's position in the shadow of the two massive war machines.

Great, just what I need, the Colonel picked this exact moment to go nuts. "Well, I had assumed that you had some kind of proposal. Otherwise we can just remount and finish up our business here before I have to go and deal with this new development."

Judging by his expression the wording appeared not to be lost on the Colonel … good perhaps he hasn't rounded the gyroscope yet. "I meant, what do your fancy sensors tell you about our new friends?"

Hmm, subtle hints are also not lost on the Colonel… Very good

"We figure it's an invasion force made up of a mixed group of pirates and/or mercs. Or Clan."

"Ha! I don't need no fancy scanners to tell me that." The humor in his voice never seemed to reach his eyes. "Can't you tell me anything useful about who they are and how big their force is?"

"We've got them marked as over 3 Mech regiments with support and supplies for a long haul. Expecting anyone?" No point trying to over state the estimates, the truth was bad enough.

The Colonel narrowed his eyes and seemed to be both considering this new information and appraising Allen at the same time. "No." He replied in a flat tone. He was looking more strained now than he had sounded on the comm. "So… what's it going to take to get you on our side?"

Kerensky's ghost and the Fed-Com treasury, thought Allen with some amusement. "Well," he began with a grin, as a new plan began to take shape in his head. "If I were to complete my current assignment, at least in spirit, we might be persuaded to extend our services to you and Warlord Vondrasek."

"Bargaining? You need us more than we need you. Unless you think your fancy toys are enough to take on a force of that size without support." Yanskoff was grinning from ear to ear like a predator who had just cornered it's prey.

"No. But I might be able to avoid them. I doubt they're here for us." Broadening his smile Allen added "Assuming that they," he jerked his thumb over his shoulder to indicate the incoming battle group "don't require some additional support." Not that Allen was seriously considering joining up with this new group, not yet. He doubted they were anymore trustworthy than Yanskoff and his people. As the adage goes, better the devil you know, than the one you don't. The new look on the Colonel's face was more than worth the cost of aggravating a man so obviously strained.

The Colonel turned a deep red, no doubt anger at being baited by this young pup that he still had out numbered 3 to 1 was almost too much to bear. Allen could see the war going on behind his eyes, his military experience telling him he needed to stop this fight and get as much support as he could muster, was wrestling with his desperate desire to mount his 'Mech and blow this pup and his pitiful unit straight to Hades. Allen waited patiently for the outcome, leaving his grin firmly in place.

Either way Colonel he thought I'm prepared.

"What'll it take to satisfy your contract?" Yanskoff barked without preamble. It appeared that the internal struggle was over, for now. But Allen had read the conclusion in his eyes before he put his best poker face on. He would agree with whatever this kid wanted, for now, and vaporize the whole lot once they had out lived their usefulness.

Predictable.

"Michelle Kaufmann and her friend Jennifer Kelm." Allen said flatly.

"Who?" But even as he said it recognition spread across the Colonel's face. "You're doing all this for two miner's daughters?" The Colonel looked half amused and half stunned.

He was partially correct, Jennifer's father was a mine supervisor who worked for Michelle's father, John Kaufmann. Michelle's father owned a medium sized mining operation in the Mica Majority state. Warlord Vondrasek had them kidnapped five months ago and was using Michelle (primarily) to pressure John into supplying him with minerals and ore. Given the Warlord's reputation, this was probably one of his more minor transgressions going on at the moment.

"That mining operation must be making more money than we thought for them to be able to afford to send mercs after them!" Yanskoff exclaimed, "Obviously we weren't squeezing him for enough, " he added with a laugh. "Tell you what, I'll bet we could out bid him. What'll it take?"

"I doubt it. You see Michelle's mother is the favorite niece of Chief Minister Larsen's wife. He is very upset." Chief Minister Larsen is the leader of the Mica Majority state, a small Periphery state consisting of three planets widely known for their mining operations. This piece of news seemed to take the Colonel by surprise. Allen had guessed that this was not known when the kidnapping was being planned, and didn't appear to be welcome news at all.

"Well… I'll take up the issue of the Kaufmann girl with the Warlord, but the other one has graciously taken up employment with one of the local companies in Astrokaszy city."

Allen deduced immediately that employment meant slavery, and made a reasonable guess as to what kind of company had employed her. "Get them, both, here quickly before anything else happens or the incoming force will have an easier time of this then they had anticipated. After that, we'll consider doing the job for 500,000 C-bills and 50% salvage rights. You've got 15 minutes to get me your answer." Allen said in a conversational manner but with a steel tone.

"500,000 C-bills! AND 50% salvage rights?! For a unit of your size? Not a chance!" The Colonel sounded outraged, but not as much as he should have, which confirmed Allen's suspicions. He's just playing his part, he has no intention of letting us get off this rock alive, so he thinks he can commit to anything.

Allen almost laughed at the irony of this exchange, but managed to keep himself under control. "It appears to be a sellers market" he replied while maintaining the same grin that seemed to be driving the Colonel to distraction.

The Colonel thought on this, for what Allen thought was an exaggerated time. Especially since Allen doubted that Yanskoff ever put this much thought into anything. "Ok," he said finally, "I'll contact Warlord Vondrasek and make your proposal. He's not going to be happy."

"He'll be even less happy if his forces are destroyed and that invasion force catches up with him, I suspect," commented Allen as he turned on his heel and began re-mounting his Battlemaster. "Remember, 15 minutes Colonel," he called from halfway up the long climb to his cockpit. Yanskoff, who was also halfway up his Warhammer, made a gesture that was difficult to make out, but could be interpreted as either acknowledgement or distinctly rude.

Sixteen minutes later Allen received the open comm. from Yanskoff agreeing to all terms, adding that "his Excellency admires those who recognize an opportunity and have the steel to profit by that advantage." Roughly translated it meant that "his excellency" agreed with Yanskoff's plan to agree to anything and stomp us into the ground later.

"Acknowledged, when the girls arrive, we'll move out."

"Ah, yes. Well… that may take some time, we do have to find that one girl's employer first."

"Don't take too long Colonel, we don't have much time left." Which was the truth, according to the latest readings the invasion force would be on the ground within the next half hour. "We don't move on this new contract until we have our last contract concluded. No negotiating."

After some more colorful banter, the Colonel finally seemed to accept the fact that Allen and his people were willing to wait until the next ice age before they would give up. Roughly an hour later a VTOL soared out over the tree line and set down between Allen's and Yanskoff's 'Mechs. When the girls were ushered out of the helicopter Yanskoff's voice cut in again, "Ok they're here, now what?"

"Now," began Allen as he reached over and punched in a comm. signal, "we get these ladies out of our way and you let me know how you want to proceed." At the signal a small hovercraft carrying 3 soldiers came whirling out around the base of one of the massive trees and made it's way over to where the captives were standing. With little more than a nod to the guards, the two girls were loaded into the craft, which shot back toward the cover of the trees.

"Well…" began the Colonel, "First we need …. "

What the Colonel was about to say, Allen never heard, as without warning Allen's emergency secure comm cut in, overriding the communication with Yanskoff. "Fox Leader, contact… INCOMMING, EVERYONE DOWN!"

Allen just had time to glance at his HUD windows which held the radar image display and the live picture showing the place on the horizon where the DropShips had disappeared, before they both dissolved into static. Allen couldn't be sure if the radar image was accurate or just badly disrupted, but there appeared to be a solid line approaching, coming in low. Looking eastward he saw smoke rising from the direction of Brier Watch's last position. Then he saw that line again, just before the first missile splashed down between Allen and Yanskoff completely destroying the VTOL, still grounded there. The explosion rocked Allen's Battlemaster as he fought through the wave of neuro feedback to keep his 'Mech standing. A section of the helicopter's blade glanced off his view screen leaving a long gouge.

Explosions began raging all around. Through his canopy Allen witnessed the horror of what was happening. Missiles were raining down like hell's own tears from what appeared to be a solid wall of Aerospace fighters. There were too many to count! Allen screamed into his comm., which was tied into both the secure and open channels,

"ALL UNITS BREAK FOR THE TREE LINE!"


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

**East of the Oasis Forest, Astrokaszy**

**Vondrasek protectorate****  
****Periphery ****  
****6 June 3059**

**15:44:23 localtime**

Four meters below the battlefield in one of many two-meter cubed reinforced staging areas the single occupant of this particular bunker sat bathed in the eerie glow from several displays. Ryan Praska laughed to himself as he adjusted the angle on one of the remote cameras, which were positioned to give him maximum coverage of the battlefield. He watched in disbelief as the hovercraft rounded the tree and headed for the VTOL to pick up the prisoners. _I got to hand it to him, the kid has done it again._ All twenty-four years of military experience in the brutal realities of modern war had told him they should have sprung the trap. An opinion shared by the _Privateers_ exec.

It was almost straightforward, you've spent three weeks getting the enemy to this point. Laid down an excellent trap, and now you're faced with a new, overwhelming force. The answer seemed so simple, spring the trap and wipe out one enemy before you face the unknown. But here, before his eyes, was the proof. Assets were being saved, the mission, which Ryan had been against taking in the first place, was successful, and now, no doubt, the Captain was working some bigger plan that would require the Colonel's assistance … or sacrifice.

_Outstanding._

_How different things had turned out_ Ryan reflected. Five years ago, no one in the _Privateers _believed that young Allen Martius was capable of taking on the job. The unit was much bigger then, nearly a full 'Mech regiment plus support. Barely eighteen years old at the time, many felt that Allen was too young for the job. Most of the unit thought Major Thomson, the unit's XO at the time, should take over. Allen's father was getting on in years when Allen was born, and while loved by his troops he was never considered a brilliant commander.

To make matters worse, Allen had turned out to be more like his mother who was a young scholarly woman. She was the unit's diplomat, negotiating resources and skills, as well has ensuring that the unit stayed together as a family. She was loved by many, but considered to be a motherly figure, not a military leader. Instead of displaying the finer qualities of a young man destined to lead a large mercenary company, Allen was seen too many times wandering the DropShip halls with some book or another in hand, instead of competing for the rare and valuable 'Mech simulator time.

The unit had become strained after Allen's father died, Allen was to take over as owner and commander of the unit per his father's Will. However, Major Thomson and the others objected. First vocally saying that this was a mercenary unit, not an inner Sphere house where heredity determined leaders. Then legally, by attempting to get Com-Star to rule Allen unfit. But finally, after all that failed, they simply revolted, during a Garrison contract for the Kell Hounds.

A raid by Clan Jade Falcon provided all the cover they needed. The Falcons had bid nearly a full Galaxy! Which was odd, since it's rare for a Clan to match their forces one to one with Inner Sphere defenders, let alone mercs. Allen had simply shrugged at the unit's commanders' concerns and pointed out that they were probably desperate to get at that planet's resources and secure the system's strategic JumpPoint. Allen had come up with a pretty decent plan, He and his command company were separated from main force as part of the plan, but things didn't turn out quite as he thought.

Thomson and the others made it look as if they were deploying according to plan, but once Allen was far enough out they re-boarded the DropShips without a shot being fired. Allen's mother managed to convince DropShip Captain Olstad and a small group of others to stay, but was unable to contact Allen. Ryan, who was the special forces commander at the time, had only learned of the desertion after most of the unit had boosted for the JumpShip. Thomson contacted him with the offer at the last minute, as Ryan and his people were on route to their assigned positions.

"_Ryan, this is Thomson, respond"_

"_Hammer? This is shadow, tac sit change? Over."_

"_Affirmative Ryan, we're cutting the dead weight. I value the skills of you and your men, so I'm offering you an opportunity to do the same. Return to the LZ for immediate lift-off"_

"_Hammer, what the HELL are you talking about? The Falcons are grounding as we speak!"_

"_I know. Perhaps some time as a bondsmen will help clarify our young pup's understanding of his place in the universe. But the unit has decided to leave him to his fate."_

Ryan's mind had reeled at what he was hearing. Desertion! In the middle of a contract for the Kells and pegged up against the Jade Falcons!

"_[Naughty], why is this the first I'm hearing of this?"_

"_Last minute decision, I'm afraid. The rest of us don't want to get ourselves killed to prove the pup can't command. His plan is desperate at best, and we've had enough of our young Lord's orders. We draw the line at getting killed over his delusions of grandeur!"_

"_And what about the Kells? They aren't likely to be real happy about loosing this world!"_

"_We'll inform the Kells and ComStar that the Falcons over whelmed our position and our young leader sacrificed himself to ensure the safety of his unit… As a good commander should. After that his __**Will**__ should clear up the remaining legalities."_

Damn! Thomson sure put a lot of thought into this "last minute" plan. I wonder if he _invited_ the Falcons? A quick look around at the expressions on the other SF troops with him told him they were all thinking the same thing about this plan.

The decision not to join the deserters, as it turned out, became one of practicality rather than a clear statement of loyalties. Ryan and his people were too far away to return in time, and Thomson wasn't about to risk a DropShip, not to mention his own life, to come pick them up. Not that Ryan and his people were interested in any case. Sure, Ryan had his misgivings about Allen's leadership. But the manner in which Thomson and the rest had chosen to leave spoke of much greater personality and leadership flaws than anything Allen had ever displayed. Ryan figured later, that Thomson waited to contact him because didn't want the special forces to stop him in the event that they didn't agree.

Whatever the particulars of the desertion, the result was the same. Instead of Allen and his company stepping out into, what was suppose to be, a Jade turkey shoot, he found himself facing the entire Clan force with only 12 'Mechs and almost no ground support. They were decimated. Only three warriors, Allen, Jessica and Wendy got out with their lives. No 'Mechs survived.

Ryan's people located Allen and the other survivors and managed to get them back to the DropShip, but the Jade Falcons caught up with them at the LZ and made them pay dearly for their escape. Ryan lost half his SF unit on the DropShip's boarding ramp, and Allen lost his mother when a Clan Hellbringer had fired it's Ultra Auto Cannon indiscriminately into the 'Mech bay.

**East of the Oasis Forest, Astrokaszy**

**Vondrasek protectorate****  
****Periphery ****  
****6 June 3059**

**15:52:30 localtime**

The sight of the hovercraft pulling alongside the prisoners brought Ryan back to the present. He reached over and increased the magnification on his display. He punched up the secure land line comm to the forces closest to where this exchange was taking place.

"Sergeant, stay alert. If this deal is going to go south it'll be now or never."

"Affirmative." Responded Sergeant John Wheelock.

Ryan admired Allen's choice for the meeting place, because there was no safer place on this battlefield to conduct face to face negotiations. Buried beneath the sand between Allen and Colonel Yanskoff, in a kind of star formation, was one of the _Privateers' _Special Forces Battle Armor units.

The _Privateers'_ Battle Armor consisted of Inner Sphere models that did not include the two missile launchers mounted over either shoulder, which is the trademark of the Clan elemental armor. However, each suit mounts a single small laser in the right arm, 'Mech size not the hand held version often carried by elite soldiers of the inner sphere, and dual machine guns mounted in the left fore arm. These units are a deadly addition to any battlefield.

Battle Armor is extremely rare in the Periphery and feared by Mechwarriors and soldiers alike, both in and out of the Inner Sphere. Allen had managed to purchase 10 power armor suits from the Grey Death Legion shortly after finishing a lucrative contract for a Steiner Baron. Each suit had cost him as much as a small 'Mech and that purchase had caused several heated _discussions_ with his officers and Mechwarriors, but Ryan and Allen both recognized the value of having such units available. These 5 had been deployed out on the battlefield as part of the trap Allen had in store for Colonel Yanskoff, with the other 5 stationed in the upper reaches of the nearby trees.

Ryan quickly continued checking the readiness of the key components of the trap, just in case. The gunship VTOLs, equipped as 'Mech busters, signaled readiness. The _Privateers' _Special Forces troops equipped with anti-'Mech weaponry, all checked in. Finally, a check of his battle computer indicated that all explosives, which mined everything out 100 meters from Ryan's position to 50 meters into forest, were in a ready state.

_Ok, here goes _thought Ryan, as two of the three _Privateer_ troopers in the hovercraft dismounted and collected the prisoners. The next moment, they were back on-board the 'craft and speeding for the tree line without a hitch.

_A little too easy_ Ryan thought as he received one last communication from Lt. Walters, the driver of the Hovercraft as they speed off, indicating that they were on their way to the _Privateers'_ DropShip, the Antelope.

Ryan reached over to a console on his right and entered a code which will order the second Battle Armor unit to shadow the hovercraft. Just some added insurance, in case the Colonel has got a plan of his own. Paranoia is a part of the job description in Ryan's profession.

_It's almost too good to be true_reflected Ryan.

Hostage rescue ops are some of the hardest missions to complete successfully, especially when the hostage is being held by someone with Warlord Vondrasek's reputation. Even if this trap had been successful, and the defending forces were wiped out leaving the Warlord unprotected, people like Vondrasek have been known to kill the hostages in defiance. Which is why the _Privateers_ didn't reveal the true purpose for being here until now.

With the size of the payoff from this contract, they might be able to expand the _Privateers_ to a full company, and get some much needed repairs done on their DropShip.

_Wait_ … something on one of his display windows caught Ryan's attention.

_Damn!_

Throwing caution to the wind, and risking exposing his position to Yanskoff, Ryan punched up an outside line.

"Brier Watch, check your…" But they already seem to have noticed, as the emergency secure comm. cut in, overriding the all other communication.

"Fox Leader, contact… EVERYONE DOWN! INCOMMING!"

"{Naughty}" Ryan swore loudly as he brought his own active radar online. Hidden at the top of a tree right at the edge of the forest, this radar would give him a maximum coverage of the air space from horizon to horizon. It had remained inactive during the battle to conceal it's position, as Ryan, like the rest of the unit, had been relying on Brier Watch's data.

The scene painted by the radar was almost as valuable as it was unbelievable, at least out here in the Periphery. The computer was still attempting to perform an accurate count, but estimates put at least 100 aerospace fighters banking in their direction! The couple that had broken off to strike Brier Watch's position were burning their thrusters at maximum in an attempt to rejoin the main group. Ryan tried to key his comm. to inform the Captain, but yet again, it was too late, the attack has begun.

The first missile splashed down between Allen and Yanskoff completely destroying the VTOL, which was still grounded there. The explosion rocked Allen's Battlemaster and he was obviously fighting hard to keep his 'Mech standing. A section of the helicopter's blade glanced off the Battlemaster's view screen leaving a long gouge. Then the scene erupted.

From the remote cameras, Ryan watched in shock as the whole area lit up. The concussions from the endless stream of missiles bounced Ryan around in his bunker. Even buried four meters down, and encased in a reinforced bunker, the vibrations were causing havoc. These hiding places had been built and placed to survive 100 ton metal giants walking and crashing over head, and insulate the soldier from stray weapon concussions. But the scene taking shape was well beyond anything they had planed for.

The missiles were blasting the sand, that provided much of the insulation for the concealed troops, away at an alarming rate. With each successive blast more and more of the protective grains were being swept away as the river of destruction swept overhead.

Screen after screen went dead, as the bombardment continued. Within a few seconds, all the panels in front of Ryan were displaying only static. Then the power went out, as a missile found the buried power cable that was supplying Ryan's bunker, which was fast becoming his tomb.

Then … silence.

**East of the Oasis Forest, Astrokaszy**

**Vondrasek protectorate****  
****Periphery ****  
****6 June 3059**

**15:55:00 localtime**

The darkness cleared a little as Ryan, still dazed, lay still for a moment straining to hear. He was lying with his left arm against the portal that lead out.

_That's strange_, he thought groggily, _the hatch is mounted in the roof_.

Pushing cables and display monitors off him, Ryan attempted to sit up. A sharp pain in his left side told him, he might have a bruised (_or broken_) rib. Other than that, and feeling like two 'Mechs had used him as a soccer ball, he seemed to be ok.

Tentatively Ryan tried opening the portal hatch. The hatch fell open with a loud bang, revealing to Ryan that his secret "underground" bunker was now lying at the bottom of two sand dunes. Sections of two more were visible sticking out of the dune to his left. The side edge of a unexploded vibrobomb could be seen sticking out of the dune to the right. The attack had radically shifted the sand on the field, exposing things that were buried and burying things that were not. Ryan could make out the leg of a Wasp sticking out of a pile of sand not far from his location.

Ryan checked his watch, then did a double-take. Ninety seconds, just a minute and a half had passed since the bombardment had begun. Climbing on top of his bunker, Ryan visually scanned the sky, seems all clear for now. Ryan brought his right hand up to his throat and activated his sub-vocal mic.

"Fox Leader, this is Mongoose, acknowledge" … static echoed briefly in his ear then nothing…

"Fox Leader, Fox One, this is Mongoose, acknowledge"… again nothing …

"Mongoose to any units, respond."

A sound of static broke as though someone had keyed their mic, but it died out as quickly as it started. Ryan stood there considering his next move when the static in his ear started again, this time a voice broke through the static.

"Mongoose, this is Ghost One, do you read?" The Ghosts is the call sign for the first Battle Armor unit. Ghost One, is Master Sergeant John Wheelock, their team leader.

"Ghost One, acknowledged, things look all clear. What's your situation?"

"According to sensors, I'm face down, on a sixty degree angle. According to my face plate, I'm pressed up against one of our vibrobombs. I'd appreciate some assistance."

"Roger One, on the way." Ryan started moving in the direction of the comm. signal. "Oh, and Don't sneeze," he added with humor born from the relief that someone else had survived.

As Ryan made his way over to where the sergeant was buried and began to carefully dig him out, more units began to call in. It took nearly forty-five minutes to dig the Battle Armor out and carefully extract it from the precarious position. Once John was free, however, the locating and extracting of the other survivors took less than two hours.

_Twenty three didn't survive. _

All the members of the Ghosts had pulled through, although one suit had been damaged but they got it jury-rigged until they could get to better facilities. Ryan stood reflecting on the lives of those people who he had lost, while the rest of the unit went about securing their position and scouting the forest for the 'Mechs.

During their excavation, they found the remains of three of the _Privateers'_ 'Mechs. The Phoenix Hawk, Jenner and Wasp apparently didn't make it far. It looked like Johnsten, the Wasp pilot had attempted to eject, but there wasn't enough left to call a corpse.

_I'm going to miss that goofball_ Ryan reflected somberly.

The others were cooked in their cockpits. They found both arms off of the _Privateer_ Shadow Hawk, but nothing else.

_Dingo survived … Big surprise. There is no justice in the Universe! _ Ryan chuckled to himself.

They did manage to find and extract a pilot from the downed Archer. One, Tony Kim, who apparently had become conscious just as the attack had begun but only stayed that way long enough to jettison his ammo. The burned out wrecks of twelve more of Yanskoff's forces were scattered around the battlefield, some buried completely by the sand. There were no other survivors amongst them.

Scouts reported that there was heavy scoring from missiles and energy weapons on the outer trees but not much further in. They did find the burning hulk of Yanskoff's Warhammer 20 meters in, apparently hit from behind at the last minute. The lieutenant conducting the search surmised that Yanskoff had ejected, but there was no body or tracks, so perhaps he got hit by stray fire or "pasted" against one of the trees. Mech tracks were found scattering in all directions heading deeper into the forest.

"We did find BattleMaster tracks, along side a Maurader that apparently has a limp. We think it's the Captain and XO!" The lieutenant seemed to have save the best for last.

"So, at least some have survived," Ryan commented with great relief after the lieutenant finished his report. "What about the VTOLs?"

"No sign of them, sir. They probably slipped away by flying low through the trees."

"Thank you, lieutenant." Ryan stood there considering the lieutenant for a moment then added, "Take five men and try and locate the Captain, tell him the situation and inform him that I will take the survivors to Victor Bravo 117."

"Yes, sir!" barked the lieutenant as he snap saluted Ryan and set off to begin collecting his troops.

There was a sudden loud explosion behind Ryan, as some autocannon munitions cooked off in a smoldering Marauder, killing two nearby soldiers who were trying to extract a third from his battered bunker.

_Three more to add to the toll_, Ryan's thoughts now somber again as he keyed his throat mic.

"PEOPLE, I want to see everyone exercising EXTREME caution! Use your heads people, we can grieve later!"

_Probably an unnecessary message at this point, but hearing from their commander tends to reassure soldiers and helps them refocus on the task at hand._

_This is going to be one of __**those**__ days_, Ryan thought to himself.


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

**East of the Oasis Forest, Astrokaszy**

**Vondrasek protectorate****  
****Periphery ****  
****6 June 3059**

**15:53:30 localtime**

"ALL UNITS BREAK FOR THE TREE LINE!"

With explosions raging all around, Allen could no longer make out Yanskoff's Warhammer just a few meters away. Taking his own advice, he rammed the throttle all the way forward, while twisting the control stick to spin the Battlemaster to the right as fast as the war machine would allow. Missiles struck every available surface of the 'Mech, bouncing Allen around violently in his command seat. Barely able to maintain a grip on the 'Mech's controls, Allen charged toward the cover of the trees, but the going was slow. It was like being caught in a nightmare, between the constant explosions on all sides and the swirling, shifting sand, visibility was zero and his HUD was becoming intermittent.

The Battlemaster stumbled, as the dune Allen was climbing got churned up in the maelstrom. Alarms sounding loudly in his ear, all systems were now competing to report damage. Allen was thrown hard against the restraints of his command chair, which bit hard into his shoulders as his 'Mech lurched forward. Out of instinct or by accident, he couldn't tell which, Allen triggered his 'Mech's rear mounted extended range medium lasers. Most 'Mechs don't mount rear-firing weapons, and even in those that do warriors often have them removed to increase their forward arsenal or armor. Allen decided to keep the weapons and upgrade them, as he felt the added coverage in the rear was a tactical advantage, at times.

This was one of those times, with so many missiles filling the air, the medium lasers had no alternative but to strike the warheads of some of them. The result was spectacular. The concussion from one missile detonated those around it, and so on, up through the barrage. The lasers penetrated the upper level of the missile cloud, surprising several of the fighters who swerved to escape the expanding ball of fire that the exploding missiles made in the sky.

Allen's 'Mech was smashed flat by the blast, but Allen recovered himself in an instant and struggled to coax his 'Mech to find footing in the shifting sand. Once he found some semblance of traction he began charging for cover again. In the momentary reprieve, while the attackers recovered their formation and came at the ground again, Allen made it to the edge of the forest. He ran 15 meters in before turning to provide cover for the rest of his unit. Arching in a wide curve to the left he rounded a nearby tree just as Yanskoff's Warhammer came charging by on the other side.

"Nice trick pup," called Yanskoff over the open comm.

Allen was almost around the tree, preparing to face the storm again, when a large black object wiped past his right shoulder. Only the sight of the burn trails registered that this was a fighter.

"Yanskoff, LOOK OUT!" Allen yelled into his helmet's comm. pickups.

There was little point in attempting to warn Yanskoff with the fighter in such close quarters, the fighter pilot unleashed his entire weapons compliment into the retreating Warhammer. The explosion temporarily blinded the rear cameras of the Battlemaster. A moment later, through the clearing view window, Allen witnessed the Warhammer falling in slow motion and the fighter arching upward attempting to break free of the confining canopy. Whatever the outcome, Allen had no more time to spend on Yanskoff. He turned his attention back to the battle in front of him.

Raising his PPC to the sky, he fired blindly into the storm of sand and fire. He continued to discharge all his energy weapons upward, as the seconds past he hoped against hope that the others would make it out. A loud crack of static burst in his ear, then the voice of Johnsten Holst tried to carry over the static.

"I'M GOING DOWN, PUNCHING OUT NOW!"

"NO!" Screamed Allen, "JOHNSTEN, STAY WHERE YOU ARE!"

The static died as fast as it had started, Johnsten hadn't gotten Allen's message in time. No unprotected human could hope to survive unprotected in that mayhem. Allen swore, something about the legitimacy of each attackers birth, and squeezed all his firing studs at once. The wave of heat nearly made him pass out, if not for the life-preserving cooling vest he would have baked alive in the soaring heat of the cockpit. His vision swam before his eyes, as the 'Mech's cooling system struggled to bring the heat level down to bearable levels. As soon as the heat indicators returned to the safe zone, Allen resumed his cover fire occasionally striking missiles and starting a fire chain to the heavens again.

Finally, after what now seemed like an eternity, he saw another shadow breaking out of the swirling sand. The distinctive crab like shape of a Marauder gradually came limping into focus, until Jessica's 'Mech finally staggered up to where Allen was standing.

Up close, Allen could see that most of her armor was gone. The 'Mech's right arm was hanging limply at her side, and the dorsal mounted autocannon was gone. Only when she was along side did a weak signal buzz in Allen's ear.

"… anyon… e… make it?…" Jessica's voice broke in and out.

"Not yet Jess, get your 'Mech behind me and use that tree as cover" Allen responded as he continued to fire, now more conservatively, since his 'Mech's heat level had again reached the point where it was threatening an auto shutdown.

"…NO, … ill got one PPC …. an help." Jessica responded.

"Negative, Yanskoff bought it just behind us when one of those fighters flew right into the trees to get at us. You get behind me and watch my back."

Movement on his view screen suddenly caught Allen's attention, but before he could react the familiar form of the _Privateers'_ Shadow Hawk, now missing both arms, flashed past to the left of the tree attempting to get deeper into the forest.

"Dingo, get as far back into the tree line as you can," Allen called into helmet pickups, praying that Dingo still had a working comm. "and weave between the trees as much as you can."

An instant later, a bolt of man made lighting flashed through the storm in front of him, slashing across his right leg and scorching the ground as if marking a spot for Allen's 'Mech to be laid to rest. Another alarm sounded and a quick look at his 'Mech's status told him he had better get out of here before the whole unit was wiped out.

For the past few seconds, which seemed like a life time, Allen the nagging sensation that he had forgotten something. Watching the deadly wall of fire and sand a sudden dawning realization caused a knot to form in the pit of his stomach. The _Privateers'_ ground support were still buried and trapped out there, with no means to escape. His mind raced as he sought a way to get them out, but the truth written on his view screen mocked his futile thoughts. He, in his mighty war machine, could do nothing but stand by and watch. The only thing he could try is withdraw and hope that once the fighters could no longer detect 'Mechs to attack they would cease their mind numbing assault.

Allen keyed his comm. again and spoke somberly praying that someone was left to hear his message. "All units, surviving 'Mechs are withdrawing into the forest. May the gods keep you safe. I will return for you."

With his last words ringing hollowly in his ears, he backed around the tree until he was concealed by it's protective cover, and then he and Jessica set out moving as fast as they could heading deeper into the forest. Thirty meters in Allen spotted a command chair dangling from a lower tree branch by it's parachute. He couldn't make out who it was, but he could tell the pilot was, at least, unconscious. Reaching up with his 'Mech's free left hand, he carefully pulled the chair free from the branch and carried it with him as he proceeded to catch up with the Marauder which was limping further into the trees.

**Deep in the Oasis Forest, Astrokaszy**

**Vondrasek protectorate****  
****Periphery ****  
****7 June 3059**

**30:33:30 localtime (just after mid-night)**

_Dear God, what have I done?_

The thought echoed in Allen's mind. He winced as the medic adjusted the bandage around his chest. Sitting on a stretcher illuminated by only one of Astrokaszy's two moons in the make-shift medical tent, Allen looked out over the small groups of people huddling around the few small campfires. Deserts are notoriously cold at night, and the planet of Astrokaszy is no exception. Yet, necessity dictated that there could only be a few fires, and those must be under the cover of IR camo netting strung between a couple of the massive trees.

One bed over, Jessica was giving a young medic hell as he attempted to set her arm. Apparently her 'Mech wasn't the only thing with a broken right arm after coming through today's fiasco. Of eight 'Mechs, only five managed to get away.

_If you could describe the shape our 'Mechs are in as "getting away," _Allen reflected grimly.

Wendy's Atlas had taken the least amount of damage, having tackled and hoisted one of Yanskoff's light 'Mechs onto her shoulder rather than trying to go around during her charge toward the cover of the forest. The lighter 'Mech had proved to be an adequate shield and the added weight helped steady the massive 'Mech on the shifting sand.

Yanskoff's forces had faired much worse. Out of twenty-four 'Mechs that had taken to the battlefield this morning, only nine had managed to survive and two of those had simply shut down on route to this location deep in the Oasis forest. They had done their best to camouflage the ones that broke down before moving on, but even the most optimistic appraiser could tell they were only fit for scrap.

Yanskoff, himself was lying motionless on the stretcher behind Allen. After they had made it further into the safety of the woods, Allen had stopped long enough to examine the warrior whom he had plucked out of the tree. It turned out to be Yanskoff, but he was not in good shape. Best guess was that he had punched out as the fighter annihilated his 'Mech, but the thrusters on his ejector seat had bounced him rather roughly off several massive tree branches on the way up, and he fared no better once the parachute had deployed. The parachute was sliced to ribbons during the decent and the only thing that saved him was getting caught in the branch where Allen found him instead of making the last ten meter free fall.

"The medics don't think he's going to make it." Jess said as though reading his thoughts. Allen looked over again to see that Jess was watching him thoughtfully.

"Hmmm, hard to tell. Life on Astrokaszy is hard, Yanskoff is a survivor to make it to where he has. Only time will tell."

"_good call pup_," a voice croaked from behind them. Both Allen and Jess spun around to see Yanskoff with his eyes half open watching them. His head and his body still hadn't moved from the position they'd been in since his arrival, but his eyes were moving to track their movements.

"Welcome back Colonel," Allen spoke causally, "we've got a bit of a situation here."

"Heh, I'll bet." Yanskoff replied. From the look of strain around his eyes, Allen could tell it was taking great effort for the Colonel to talk at all.

"We're deep in the forest Colonel, both our forces were badly beaten, we've got twelve operational 'Mechs combined. Problem is even those 'Mechs that made it are in no condition to fight, let alone fight a major invasion force."

"Who are they?" The Colonel's face was starting to show some of the strain that he had displayed during their negotiations.

"We're still not sure," Jess answered, "our battle ROMs did show a unit symbol of some kind, but it's nothing we've ever encountered and the computers have no record of it either."

"Clans, or some other new group?" Yanskoff looked as if he might jump off the stretcher, even if the effort killed him.

"I doubt it," Allen replied as he moved to hold the Colonel down, "it's possible I suppose, given what happened when the Clans arrived, but these invaders are using Inner Sphere equipment, some of them recent designs."

"Best guess at this point is some new unit from the Inner sphere, made up of disgruntled or wanted warriors," Jess added matter of factly.

"Great, just what the periphery needed," Yanskoff responded in a sarcastic tone.

"Something about that theory doesn't sit well with me," Allen voiced, as much to himself as to the others. He looked around thoughtfully and noticed several medics lingering nearby, apparently keen to hear the discussion.

"What're ya thinkin' pup?"

"The way they attacked, and the firepower they used, just doesn't add up. No call for surrender, or clan ultimatum… a fighter assault that would have made the inner houses jealous… the speed at which they located our position, including the scouts, and something else…" Allen trailed off in thought.

"Go on, pup, I think I'm getting the picture"

"I don't know. I do know that they expended an awful amount of ammunition on that strike, more than a rogue group could afford to waste. Unless…"

No one responded, the truth seemed just out of reach and the implications seemed too much to consider. The three sat in silence considering the day's events, Allen listening to the sounds of the camp mixed with the eerie noises of the alien forest.

"AND be not down trodden! For the Almighty will delivery his people, and uphold us, in this, our hour of need …"

_Ahh, the good Reverend is at least attempting to spread some hope. Of course knowing this lot the Andurien Red Label in the Antalope's hold would probably produce better results. Back to the problem at hand. What is it? I'm missing something. …_

An hour later Allen was brought out of his revere by the sounds of deep breathing. Without looking he could tell that Yanskoff had drifted back to sleep. Looking over at Jess, he saw that although she was leaning with her eyes open propped against a tent support, she was quickly being overcome by fatigue.

"Let's get some rest Jess, we'll get a better picture of what's happening tomorrow." Jessica nodded, and nearly fell over, fast asleep before her head hit the stretcher.

Allen stretched out on his own medical stretcher and stared at the roof of the tent.

_Tomorrow I find out what happened to Ryan and his people, one way or another_ Allen promised himself as sleep overtook him.

**Deep in the Oasis Forest, Astrokaszy**

**Vondrasek protectorate****  
****Periphery ****  
****7 June 3059**

**03:43:00 localtime **

"CAPTAIN, CAPTAIN!" Allen's tired mind slowly clawed it's way back to the waking world, egged on by the small voice penetrating the sleep induced void.

"SSHhhhhh!" Commanded another voice, "The Captain and other INJURED people need rest!"

"But…," the first voice stammered before apparently regaining his composure.

_It is a male voice_ Allen thought groggily.

"{Naughty} Jenny! Get out of the way!"

"WHAT is going on over here!" Demanded a harsh woman's voice in a very severe tone.

"_We need a Demon Slayer Allen!" – it was Jess' voice_

"_Where in HELL should I look for one of those?" How am I going to get one of those now? Allen thought in a panic, we'll all die here in this desolate hell if I can't get one. _

"_Quick, down this passage!"_

"_Allen where are we going?"_

"_You said we needed a Demon Slayer?!"_

"_Yes, but now it's too late." Jess' voice change mid sentence from her normal female pitch to a deep throaty grumble that echoed all around and seemed filled with mirth by the last two words._

_Allen spun around and watched in horror as Jess morphed into a hideous demon. In the endless dark depths of the demon's eyes Allen watched the scene replay itself. An ethereal radio broadcast seemed to be everywhere now, "I'M GOING DOWN, PUNCHING OUT NOW!"_

_Watching the deadly wall of fire and sand helplessly, a dawning realization caused a knot to form in the pit of his stomach. The Privateers' were still buried and trapped out there, with no means to escape. _

"_NO!" Screamed Allen, "JOHNSTEN, STAY WHERE YOU ARE!" _

" _I'LL BE BACK!"_

The last sentence Allen screamed aloud as he sat bolt up right drenched in sweat. Looking around Allen noticed three things, one it was very dark, two the camp was very quite save for the faint sounds of a radio broadcast, and three everyone was staring in his direction.

"Captain! Are you ok?" The younger medic called, as she rushed over to his cot.

"I'm ok," Allen responded as he tried to shake off the after images of the dream, "What's going on?"

The young soldier stepped around the medics and came to attention at the end of Allen's cot. "Sir! We have been monitoring for communications, including civilian, per your orders, and we think we've got something you need to hear."

"Now see here!" the severe medic called, "I've had enough of this. The Captain needs rest to recover before …"

Allen stalled the nurse with an upheld hand. "That's ok Karen, I'll rest when we get out of this mess. See that the others get some rest, I'll go check this out."

"Like hell," the group collectively jumped as they became aware that Jess was awake and sitting on the edge of her own cot. "WE'LL go check this out!" She said while indicating Allen and herself. The finality in the XO's voice didn't leave any room for discussion.

As Allen and Jess approached the group that had gathered around the make shift communication station, Allen could tell by the looks on the assembled faces that the news wasn't good.

**Highway 43, Astrokaszy**

**Outskirts of Vondrasek protectorate****  
****Periphery ****  
****7 June 3059**

**03:00:00 localtime **

_Dammit! _Rogers thought viciously as the news truck hit yet another sand dune that frequently drifted across the highways on Astrokaszy.

"Can't you drive?" He barked at the tri-vid tech sitting in the driver's seat.

The driver simply grunted and gave Rogers a side long glace before returning his attention to the road.

"Damn these roads out to the Barbarian villages! How is that I, graduate of the MacTavish Academy of Journalism, end up here on this desolate dirt ball?! And now these low-bred morons I work for are sending me. ME! Out to this Vondrasek's little piece of hell, because of some cock and bull story about a big raid! This is a savage pirate world. Why is a raid important enough to drag ME out of bed? They should have sent that new kid, what's his name?"

Rogers looked at the driver to supply the name. When the driver didn't even look at him he continued.

"Ahh, it doesn't matter. Oh well, If they've been particularly brutal this time maybe I'll get a story worth Inner Sphere attention and finally get off this {Naughty}…[Naughty} world!_"_ Looking over he noticed that the driver (_what __**is**__ his name?_)was grinning. Rogers took this to mean that the driver saw the wisdom of his little tirade and mentally raised his opinion of him a couple of notches. _I must remember to find out his name._

The tri-vid tech didn't respond to any of this. Truth be told he secretly hoped that the raiders were still around; the thought of recording Rogers grisly death brought a small smile to his face. _With that shot I might get some recognition and get out of dealing with wankers like Rogers._

**03:25:21**

"DAN! Yeah we're here settin' up." Rogers yelled into his phone over the static, "YEAH, Heh, Hell it looks like Vondrasek must have gone and pissed in Blake's holy cereal or something! The whole place is smashed flat. We're going to open here and maybe venture in to get some real action from there. What? Yeah, yeah, ok. Dan? We're ready. 20 seconds, ok."

…**And now we take you to the scene with our award winning reporter Kevin Rogers. Kevin can you hear us?**

**YES Sara, I'm here at St. Ivan City which is, as you can see behind me, the site of a major attack. From what we've been able to determine, unknown raiders struck the city shortly after night fall. Planetary officials confirmed that a brief distress message was received by Central Authority communications people in Astrokaszy City at about 21:05 yesterday. Central Authority fighters were dispatched to investigate but no word has been heard from them since they radioed their initial proximity to St. Ivan. At this point there is no word of survivors. I am going to mount up and head into the city to show our viewers the full extent of the destruction and offer my assistance to any survivors.**

**Kevin? Do you think it's safe to enter the city? Can you see any signs of the attackers?**

**Well, Sara, it is most likely very dangerous in there right now, I urge our views to stay away from St. Ivan at all costs. I am a trained professional and understand the risks involved, but I believe that our viewers should be aware of the full extent of this despicable act. Perhaps we can offer some comfort or closure to viewers who have family in St. Ivan. Again, this is a VERY dangerous situation and I urge all our viewers to stay clear of St. Ivan, rest assured that I will assist anyone who I encounter.**

**Ok, Kevin, we'll stay with you as you enter the city. We apologize to our viewers for this interruption of our regular programming, but to reiterate, a massive attack has occurred in St. Ivan City. What we know at this point is that an unknown force attacked St. Ivan shortly after dark. All attempts at contacting people in St. Ivan, including representatives of Lord Vondrasek's staff, have failed. Our own sister station AAZM is off line and we have been unable to reach them at this time. Our thoughts and prayers go out to the people of St. Ivan and their families both on and off world. Our senior war correspondent Kevin Rogers is currently on the scene and risking his life to get into the city.**

**Sara? As you can see we are approaching the main gates of St. Ivan which have been blown apart! The gates and most of the walls are down and on fire! We are going to get out of our truck and proceed on foot from here.**

**Right Kevin, be very careful.**

**We are now scaling the debris and should be able to provide you and our viewers with a clear shot of St. Ivan for the first time since we lost contact yesterday. We're almost at the top of this pile, and… Dear God! …. **

Genuine stunned silence followed for the next couple of seconds as Rogers and the station crew attempted to wrap their minds around the vision of destruction.

**Ahhh, Sara? Are you receiving this?**

**Y-yes, Kevin.**

**St. Ivan is gone! All the buildings are smashed flat! Everything is on fire. I don't hear sirens or other sounds of rescue personnel. Sara, I believe it's safe to say that there were very few survivors, if any. My thoughts and prayers go out to the victims families.**

**Kevin, we are going to leave you for a few minutes. I've been informed we have a representative from the Central Authority's office live from the steps of the main administrative building. We'll keep monitoring you from the station and cut back instantly if you have any word of survivors. Now over to Karen at …**

**Delgar Wastelands, Astrokaszy**

**120 Kilometers NE of Astrokaszy City****  
****Periphery ****  
****7 June 3059**

**03:30:00 localtime **

The old man walked slowly in a deliberate pattern with the Y-shaped twig held delicately by his two pinky fingers, palms facing up toward the night sky. Waiting. Hoping. Centuries ago Star League engineers would have used sophisticated equipment to sweep the surface of Astrokaszy for the ever changing underground springs and rivers. But those days were short in the Periphery, and long gone now. Oh perhaps some in the Inner Sphere Houses, and certainly the Clans, possessed equipment that could perform similar functions, to varying degrees. But out here those that survive do so by using more ancient methods.

Water is life in the desert. On a desert planet water can make a man rich, or wipe out an army. Outsiders only see what is on the surface, barren oceans of ever shifting sand, deadly sand storms born on unbearably hot winds and the ever relentless sun. But those that know how to survive know that under that sand is as much water as any other world, all one needed was to know where to look.

Carl had the knack, as his father before him, and his father's father. They lived well, once. The patterns had shifted recently, and it had been quite a while since anyone had found a new source. A number of the old ones had dried up in the last ten years, now the Central Authority had offered even more bounty to those that could turn up new ones.

_Enough money to get off this world. Maybe get us into the 'Sphere._

The worry lines deepened on his weather worn face. He groaned as he straightened up and stretched his back scanning the predawn horizon in the direction of his house.

_Dillan is spendin' too much time fiddlin' with his gadgets. Doesn't want to follow in his families foot steps, keeps talking 'bout running off and becoming a, what does he call it? A Tech? Can't really blame him, but… Damn boy should be out here helpin' me if he wants to be goin' off to school. 'Stead of stayin' up nights foolin' with his toys and sleepin' half the work day away! Jenna and Heather, well… things are gettin' worse. I can't bear to think about what might happen to them! No, I've got to hit one more time! Then, then we'll get to somewhere where they've got a future. Mother and I will just have to adjust._

_Damn! Winds changin'. Goin' to be a storm before dawn. Got to try to cover a little more ground before I head back. What's that?_

Only keen eyes accustom to peering deep into desert nights would have caught the small dot in the sky so far off. Then more appeared. Carl's mind raced as he tried to figure out what he was looking at.

_Wait! Dillan was on about some raid or somethin' last night! Said he heard chatter on his radio! Sounded like the Tri-Vid on the blink to me, he said it was somethin', what was it? Battle speech? This can't be it. I've seen a lot of raids on this world, but they've never had a swarm of planes like that! I hope Dillan turned h-his damned radio off!_

Carl turned to run back to his dune buggy. The swarm started passing over head, too many to count! The air vibrated with the passing of so many fusion powered thrusters. Carl watched in slow motion as his buggy seemed to move further away from him with every pounding step. He watched as two of the dark shadows broke formation and headed for the ground in the distance. The sound he'd heard before, the night his father died. The sound of missiles clearing their launch tubes. A fire ball on the horizon, and smoke staining the flawless night skyline.

"NOOooo!" The scream pierced the night as an old man continued to run back to his vehicle. Hope dwindling.


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

**Death's crater, Veiled Mountain Range, Astrokaszy****  
****Periphery ****  
****7 June 3059**

**06:00:00 localtime**

"GODDAMMIT!" Captain Kris Olstad swore as another brief flash followed by a puff of smoke wiped out the most of the remaining lights on the Antelope's bridge control panels. She stabbed viciously at the last remaining light on her command chair panel with her index finger opening up the ship wide speaker system, "Brig! Make room for our _Engineers_!… Scratch that, someone round them up and arrange a firing squad! I want it ready in 5 minutes!"

Several decks below the engineers exchanged nervous looks. "You don't think she means it… do you?" asked Anderson, the newest member of the Antelope's engineering crew. For a young man already under pressure, that last announcement seemed to age him a good 10 years.

"Naw, she's just in one of her moods," MacGillivray responded in his thick Scottish accent. MacGillivray was the oldest engineer among them and scuttlebutt was he had attended the Antelope's first launch.

"No that I blame her. We're a long way from a port tha' can completely refit the old girl's systems," he said while affectionately patting the nearby bulkhead.

"She's probably worried tha' the last power spike might have left us dead in the water, an' she might be right."

MacGillivray sighed and seemed to drift off in thought for a moment as he gazed down at the large pile of cables at his feet. A few moments of silence passed, and then as if waking up, MacGillivray shook off his reverie, clapped his hands together and looked around at the others.

"Alright! Back to it lads! If the lady up stairs is kind enough to have us all shot then we'll get to knock off early and stop worrying about getting off this forsaken dust ball. Until then, let's get the old girl back in flying shape."

**Veiled Mountain Range, Astrokaszy****  
****Periphery ****  
****7 June 3059**

**06:00:00 localtime**

"Deliverance, this is Phantom, respond."

_We should be close enough by now._

"Think someone's got to her?" Wraith's voice broke in over the comm.

"We're not that lucky," Replied Phantom grinning to himself inside his Battle Armor.

Verbally calling up magnification, Phantom zoomed in on the relatively concealed location of the Antelope. She was tough to make out nestled in the ancient meteorite impact crater Captain Olstad had chosen as the LZ.

_There! Those sparks must be techs making repairs. _

"Over there," Phantom indicated to Wraith by pointing with his small laser, "Poor {Naughty}ards, that rust bucket is always needing something_._ I just hope she's not dead in the water, so to speak," he threw in looking around at the desolate rock and sand on the mountain side around them.

"Better try them again," taking careful aim with his laser comm. Phantom opened the channel, "Deliverance, this is Phantom, respond."

No response.

"Great." Phantom commented through his external mics as he turned to look back over his left shoulder at the hovercraft just down over the hill. "Lt. Walters please join us Sir."

"_**There you go my dear," frozen with fear Michelle flinched as Warlord Vondrasek reached both arms around her neck and fastened a necklace, "a little momentum of your visit with us." I still didn't believe it. He'd said the same thing when Jennifer left. Only a week later he "invited" me to watch Jennifer's new "show" via remote camera. **_

_**Michelle stood shock still, having learned early on the punishment for any sign of resistance. Her mind recorded every detail, but processed nothing. All hope of rescue or escape had been thoroughly removed from her psyche.**_

_**But dreams are almost always different from the way it really happened, at least in one detail. In this case, the ability to scream!**_

"NOooo!" Michelle shot bolt upright in the back seat of the hovercraft, slick with sweat. In her blurred vision she saw two soldiers standing beside the craft and one more walking up a hill toward two armored figures.

_I'm still __**his**__ prisoner! __**He**__ lied again! __**He**__ always lies!_

In her disoriented frame of mind, still living through the after-shadows of her nightmare, she screamed again.

"Easy Maam'," stammered the young soldier nearest the young ladies.

Finally catching her breath and gaining some composure, she breathed "I'm ok." Michelle looked sidelong at her friend next to her. Jennifer looked like hell, around her eyes were dark, as though she hadn't slept in quite a while, her skin was taught like she hadn't eaten. But the haunted look in her eyes! That's the most frightening. She just keeps staring at her feet and she hasn't said a word since the two had been reunited. Several times during the hovercraft ride, and the helicopter ride before that, Michelle had attempted to start a conversation to no avail. Michelle had been so relieved to see Jennifer when they were first ushered into the helicopter, at least she wouldn't die alone. Her mind still wouldn't allow her to contemplate the possibility that they were being freed.

Lt. Jason Walters looked at one, then the other battle armored troopers then back at the young women in the hovercraft before commenting quietly, "that {Naughty}ard Vondrasek put those two through hell. Let's just get them back to the DropShip quickly and in one piece Sergeant Pauls, I think they need some time to heal."

"Yes Sir." Phantom spoke as quietly as his external speakers would allow.

**Desolate Plains, Astrokaszy**

**Wastelands****  
****Periphery ****  
****7 June 3059**

**07:43:30 localtime**

The middle aged officer stepped up to the door and reached for the chime. His crisp uniform flawless he stood at attention, no sign of his apprehension showing. Despite the complete lack of rank or insignia of any kind, his poise and conduct at all times marks him easily as a senior officer. The door in front of him lead to the single largest room on any of the DropShips, one that encompassed the entire 5th floor of this Overlord class ship.

"Come," spoke the deep bass voice through the external speaker. That voice alone was enough to instill fear in junior ranks and enlisted personnel. Not that it had no effect on the man now waiting at full attention, but it was unbecoming to cower. As soon as the door opened the officer stepped in at a lively pace, feet carrying him through the darkened room with practiced ease. Past the priceless artwork, each illuminated from above by a single sharp light that focused on their individual charges but did nothing to brighten the room around. The officer came to attention again, in front of the large black desk made of some priceless wood from a far off world. Behind the desk a high back chair stood back-on to the officer, it made no attempt to turn but rather continued to face the large window. The officer stood, waiting, eyes fixed on the eternally black sand storm that raged outside.

"Report." A simple command, yet coming from that voice… That voice could penetrate bulkheads, and fills a room and all that listen with the sounds of supreme confidence and power that mark it's owner to all who see or hear him.

"The sand storm has reached Astrokaszy City, and is interfering with our operation. The flight leader estimates only 60% of the city has been effected at this time. We have lost 7 fighters thus far due to sand in the intakes, the modifications made prior to arrival apparently cannot compensate for a full sand storm. The flight leader recommends withdrawal of AeroSpace units until the storm passes."

The report continues uninterrupted, the officer knows that the listener will hear the complete report before issuing his commands.

"Elements of the Third have reported reaching the remains of a crude camp in the forest, but it appears to have been abandoned just a few hours before they arrived. They believe the camp was created by survivors of the 'Mech battle the fighters encountered en-route to St. Ivan City. The First and Second elements are in St. Ivan Cityand sweeping now. They report that there is no resistance but storm is also hampering their effectiveness. The remainder of the Third is sweeping the outlying areas around St. Ivan City. No sign of the artifact has been found as of yet."

"Very good," the voice began in a slow, deliberate and penetrating tone. "Recall the fighters. I want to speak with the flight leader about his _failure_ at the edge of the forest, tell him to report to me immediately upon his return. Order the Third to move at flank speed to Astrokaszy City, I want that city dealt with! The Second can assume sweeping operations, tell them to sweep South then rotate toward Astrokaszy City. Remind the commander that No One Escapes! Order the First to pickup their pace, if the artifact is there I want it found now! Sand storms do not alter our timelines!"

"YES SIR!" The officer snaps into a full salute and begins to turn to execute his commander's orders.

"Oh."

The officer freezes mid turn and returns to face the back of the chair. "Yes, Sir?"

"I assume you detonated the fighters." It was a statement and a dangerous question rolled into one.

"Of course, sir. Before they hit the ground and the ejection systems were, of course, disarmed."

"Very good. I don't need to remind you, we leave no traces. Dismissed."

**Northern edge of the Oasis Forest, Astrokaszy**

**Vondrasek protectorate****  
****Periphery ****  
****7 June 3059**

**08:00:00 localtime**

The sand storm raged, blocking out the sky and creating a darkness deeper than any starless night. A lone figure staggers toward the edge of the forest refuge, electronic device nearly pressed against his nose. His transport had given out just 70 meters from the edge of the forest, but the walk these few meters felt like trying to swim from the Nadar JumpPoint to the planet without a space suit.

The figure slowly takes shape in the lull created by the massive trees. Ugly, brown tweed jacket whipping around behind him, with one sleeve torn off and wrapped around his right leg to stem the bleeding from the gash left by the shrapnel. Matching Brown tweed pants and mustard yellow shirt were ripped and torn, yet complemented by the universe's worst tie. Another series of gashes in his left arm and forehead cycled between closed and openly bleeding as the burning sand buffeted him. Staggering past the first tree line, the man collapses around the back of the third tree he encounters. He continues to check his device, which is starting to blink on and off due to sand penetration. The remaining alcohol in his system, combined with the predictable ensuing hangover, adds to his frustration.

"DAMN this _Stravag_ planet!" He screams at the surrounding trees, "AND DAMN those _dezgra_ _freebirths_ and their trice damned fighters!"

With that frustration expelled from his system, the Clan Business man reflected that it was good none of his Clansmen were present to have heard his outburst. Or his negligence the night before, when he allowed those that he has been negotiating with for the past month to feed him a steady stream of Kaszy Ivans! The ground around him began to shift and stir.

_What now?! Is the whole planet against me? Or is this some unknown side effect of those DAMNED Kaszy Ivans?!_

As the Clanner tried, unsuccessfully, to leap to his feet, twelve shapes rose, wraith like, out of the sand and dirt. The twelve shapes were draped in camo-netting designed to mask the various signs of human life.

"Had a little slip of the tongue, _Quiaff_?" Ryan Praska smiled at the Clansman through his camo-paint.

The Clan business man slumped back down, realizing that the twelve weapons pointed in his direction, along with his current state, ended the debate about his ability to address this new threat.

"_Aff_."


	6. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

**Victor Bravo 117,** **Northern edge of the Oasis Forest, Astrokaszy**

**Vondrasek protectorate****  
****Periphery ****  
****7 June 3059**

**16:00:00 localtime**

Allen raised his Battlemaster's right arm as a visual cue for the column of survivors to halt. Allen had ordered the immediate evacuation of the camp after hearing the reporter's description of the devastation that occurred in St. Ivan City. He surmised that anyone who would completely destroy a civilian population would be coming back to finish the job they started with his group. During the breaking down of the camp a messenger had arrived bringing word from Ryan. The waves of relief at hearing that most of Ryan's people had survived nearly overwhelmed Allen's exhausted mind. The column of survivors had been traveling for 10 straight hours and operating under radio silence, leaving each of the 'Mech Warriors alone with only their own thoughts as company. The going had been slow.

Allen had purposely chosen a round-about path to get to the rally point Ryan had indicated in his message. The column was also moving at a torturously slow pace due to the injured and those that had to walk due to lack of vehicles to transport them. Not to mention that most of the 'Mechs were badly damaged and couldn't move at anything better than a slow limp.

_But we made it!_ Allen thought as he sat staring out of his canopy _Where is Ryan?_

Loose sand blew all around, brushing swirling designs across Allen's field of vision. At nearly 100 meters from the edge of the forest the signs of the violent storm beyond were now ever present. Allen risked exposure and swept the area with his 'Mech's sensors.

_Nothing? Where are they? Could the enemy have intercepted them?_ Allen thought as the creeping depression brought on by the march and nagging guilt at having left his men back in the fire storm caused him to, again, doubt himself.

A sudden rapping on his overhead canopy caused Allen to snap his head back in surprise. His Neuro-Helmet collided with the back of his seat causing Allen's head to bounce around roughly inside. When he finally managed to get his wayward head under control and properly angle himself to see straight up, there was Ryan, dangling upside down by a cable and wrapped in his suppression camo. From the look on his face, Ryan was clearly struggling to suppress his laughter.

Cutting on his external speakers Allen boomed, "Dammit Ryan! I march all this way to find you playing in the trees!"

"Sorry boss, " Ryan barked between short coughs of laughter, "I couldn't resist. We knew someone was coming and got ready. When we confirmed it was you, we stayed put to make sure we could help if you were being followed. Butt.. when I got the all clear.. I just couldn't resist. Is your head alright?" With that last question he nearly laughed hard enough to fall from his precarious position.

"Right," was all that Allen could think to say. A combination of relief and embarrassment flustered his ordinarily quick wit.

"We're setup over there about 40 meters," Ryan pointed off to the right, slightly back into the forest, "there's a good spot to park the 'Mechs so they are well hidden. Oh, and I've got someone you should meet."

"Right," Allen wondered who on earth Ryan could have encountered out here during one of Astrokaszy's vicious sand storms, but he figured he'd find out soon enough. He turned his 'Mech to face the indicated direction, as other members of Ryan's team descended to the forest floor. Allen proceeded to issue orders to the rest of the column, "follow the soldiers to the new camp, Ryan? Want a lift?" Allen raised his 'Mech's free hand up to where Ryan was still perched and opened it up to reveal it's palm.

"Don't mind if I do, " Ryan called as he cut his ties to his support cable and performed a half somersault into the 'Mech's open hand.

**Victor Bravo 117,** **Northern edge of the Oasis Forest, Astrokaszy**

**Vondrasek protectorate****  
****Periphery ****  
****7 June 3059**

**16:40:00 localtime**

Allen stood atop a small mound surveying the progress of the combined group of his and Yanskoff's people as they went about establishing the new camp. Their progress was going well under the expert direction of Ryan and his team, who were breaking the large assembly into smaller groups and positioning each sub camp for camouflage and defensibility. Allen had to admit that this was an excellent location.

Due to the shape of the terrain, each sub camp was positioned in such a way that they would look like extensions of a hill or fill in a small valley to create the illusion of a continuous mound. The 'Mechs, Battlearmor, and vehicles were safely stored in a large underground cave whose entrance was nearly invisible until you were actually standing in the opening. Ryan had explained that the composition of the rocks, their natural formation and the heavy iron content of the trees and surrounding vegetation all conspired to create the visual illusion that could not be penetrated by sensors. He wouldn't have found the cave if one of the Battlearmor units hadn't fallen in after jumping over the hill from the other side. The techs had already begun converting the large natural formation into a functional service and re-arm depot that would go along way to making the severely damaged units battle ready. A makeshift hospital was being erected further back in the cave.

It had taken the better part of the last forty minutes to get the 'Mechs and vehicles ushered into the cave and round up the stragglers from the long march.

_And now to find out more about this "guest" Ryan has been talking about_ Allen thought as he headed in the direction of the new command center Ryan had already established under the exposed root structure of one of the largest trees. Allen had to duck under an overhead branch as he entered the command center. He stopped short just after entering as he took in the impressive difference between the nearly undetectable and very natural looking exterior and the inside which was filled with various portable computers, all interconnected, displaying an incredible array of views of the camp, the surrounding areas, and technical readouts from seismic and passive radar installations.

_Damn! Ryan has been busy_! Allen noted that one of the technicians, wearing an oversized headset, seemed to be cycling through listening devices that looked, on the visual display, to be scattered throughout the camp and, if the map on the display was to be believed, up to 700 meters around the camp!

_I've got to remember to give him a raise after this!_ Allen thought with earnest

_IF we get out of this_ he morbidly added to remind himself of the gravity of the situation.

Spotting two soldiers standing guard over a third man, who by the looks of his clothes could be the universes tackiest used hovercar salesman, Allen started to walk over to their encave. As he approached he got a closer look in the dimly lit center. The man had bandages on his head and arms and a leg wrap and splint on his right leg and he had been shackled. A horrible tweed jacket was draped over the back of the chair.

_There is something else, a look in his eye, the cut of the man's form. He is no used hovercar salesman. Although, he must have some really important information, 'cause I might have shot him for just wearing that tie!_

"So, " Allen began.

"Ahh, you've meet our guest, " Ryan called as he entered the command center.

"No, actually, I was just about to. But, since you're here perhaps you can handle the formal introductions," Allen replied in a mock aristocratic tone.

"My pleasure, " Ryan seemed to be truly enjoying the theatrics as he continued, " Captain Allen Martius, let me introduce you to Mr. Jason Kotare, " Ryan paused with a broad smile painted across his face, obviously waiting to see if Allen could derive some important nugget from simply hearing the man's name.

_Jason Kotare? I don't think I've ever heard of a Jason Kotare. What could I possibly get from just hearing that nam… Kotare?! That can't be it, can it? Isn't that a … Clan name!_

Before Allen could verbalize his thoughts Ryan, either because he'd seen the conclusion of Allen's thoughts written on his face or out of impatience, blurted out, " Businessman of Clan Smoke Jaguar."

"CLAN SMOKE JAGUAR!" Now Allen truly was shocked! "Are they…" Ryan was already shaking his head no when the prisoner jumped into the conversation.

"NEG! Clan Smoke Jaguar would never, " but Allen cut him off.

"Yeah, I'll bet that's what you told everyone before Edo Bay!" Allen snapped angrily. The prisoner seemed to seethe as he tried to jump to his feet, only to be thrown hard back into his chair by the shackles around his wrists and ankles. Ryan stepped in close to Allen in a smooth half turn and placed a restraining hand on his shoulder.

"No Allen. This guy wouldn't have been caught unaware in harms way, if it was them."

_At least that reasoning makes some sense_ Allen thought as he eased up a little in Ryan's grip but remained locked in a hard stare with the man in the chair.

"Ok, if it wasn't them, then what's **he** doing here?" Allen asked without blinking.

"I'm here on business." Replied the Clansman in a defiant tone.

"What kind of business brings a Clansman all the way out to Astrokaszy?" Allen barked, the look in his eyes daring the Clanner to give him an excuse to feed him to the storm raging outside.

"A Star League depot." Ryan replied flatly before either of them could continue their little love fest.

The Clansman seemed taken aback by this announcement, and began to respond in an indignant tone, "I never .."

Ryan completed his sentence, while looking between Allen and the prisoner, "told me why you're here. I know. But it's my job to know Who's on first."

"What?!" The Clansman shrieked, with a look on his face like he was surrounded by madmen.

"No, What's on second, but that's not important right now." Ryan replied, in a flat tone with just a hint of mischievous undercurrent.

Allen's head was rotating like it was mounted on a swivel, following the rapid fire exchange between the other two. Ryan was clearly enjoying keeping Allen and their prisoner off balance.

"What is important is your presence. I had unconfirmed reports of a small Clan force, Smoke Jaguar in particular, operating on the Southern Continent prior to our arrival here. Reportedly looking for a lost Star League supply depot. Your presence would seem to confirm that report." Holding up his hand to forestall the obvious rebuttal working it's way across the Clansman's face, Ryan continued, "This was mixed with the reports of others also seeking the same treasure. It seemed likely due to your Clan's current situation what with the Star League Defense Force invasion of Clan Smoke Jaguar worlds last month."

"Star League … Invasion?!" The Clanner rocked in his chair, with a look of total disbelief written on his face.

Allen's numb mind was quickly recovering from the shock of having a Clansman in his command center, and putting together more and more of the pieces that Ryan was so carefully laying out.

"And, if you were actually out this far looking for new business, it would be more likely that you'd be on Canopus than Astrokaszy. Business is a little _exotic_ on this world for Clan tastes." Ryan finished with a sly grin.

The Clanner was silent. He was staring at a point over Ryan's shoulder mouthing the word invasion.

Allen felt it was his time to jump in, "So, this new force may have taken the Smoke Jaguar presence here as proof of the depot's existence and decided to come in force."

"There's a good chance." Ryan replied with a knowing grin.

"But who? I don't know of any Pirates with this kind of fire power. The Houses are currently fixated on the new Star League business. Could it be another Clan?" Allen queried.

Ryan started shaking his head again, "No, it doesn't fit. They struck at us, and steam rolled over St. Ivan without so much as a HI THERE. Then preceded to take a swing at Astrokaszy City. I know how you feel about the Clans, but Edo was punishment for civilian rebellion not unprovoked wholesale genocide. Besides, a Clan force would have gone after the Smoke Jaguars on planet first."

"Perhaps a rogue Clan then, like, what were they called? Clan Wolverine?" Allen shot back, thinking aloud.

The Clanner snapped back to the present at the mere mention of the Unspoken Clan's name.

"I doubt it, " Ryan began slowly, as though chewing through a possibility that he hadn't considered, "Those fighters we encountered were Inner Sphere designs. But.. it would explain why they destroyed the civilians, leaving no traces of their presence would be one of their highest priorities, given the sea of love their former allies still have for them, " he indicated the completely enraged look on the prisoners face with a jerk of his thumb.

"WELL?" Allen barked at the Smoke Jaguar, "Could this be them?"

The businessman opened his mouth to refuse the possibility, but then seemed to stop and reconsider his response before speaking, a talent lacking entirely from the Smoke Jaguar Warrior Caste. A couple of long minutes passed as the prisoner glared up into Allen's face, a deep internal turmoil played itself out across his features.

Then, a look of resignation surfaced and he finally responded, "I would love to refute these charges, but I can not. It is recorded that the Not Named Clan was destroyed entirely, but it is well known that what was recorded is not completely accurate. The honor-less dogs, if they still exist, could certainly be responsible for attacking undefended civilians. I can say that secrecy would be, as you have said, of utmost importance to those _Surat_ scum. All true Clans would abandon all other concerns and rush to destroy them if they were to surface. And the depot, if the _Stravag_ thing exists, might be enough to entice those _Freebirths_ to risk this action."


	7. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

**Victor Bravo 117,** **Northern edge of the Oasis Forest, Astrokaszy**

**Vondrasek protectorate****  
****Periphery ****  
****7 June 3059**

**19:10:00 localtime**

Allen sat, strapped in his Battlemaster's cockpit, checking and double checking his systems, listening to the low chatter from the command center carried to his 'Mech via hard ground connection. Already the heat in the cockpit was reaching oven like conditions as he stood his 'Mech just inside and to the right of the cave entrance. Layers of long vines dangled over the mouth of the cave stretching toward the ground where high shrubs reached up to meet them, nearly blocking out all light from outside. Yellow and red damage indicators glared up at Allen from the left most control panel cycling through the systems check, indicating the extent of the damage suffered during the brief but vicious air raid. Three of his heat sinks were destroyed and the remainder, although double, were struggling in the desert climate to keep the 'Mech cool just standing idle. All upper body armor indicated damage but, right now, there were no breaches. All weapons checked in operational, and his Short Range Missile system had been reloaded.

Weather reports siphoned from the command center indicated that the sand storm was still raging over most of the continent visible to Ryan's equipment. The massive Sand storms on Astrokaszy were known to last for weeks. They sprung up so fast that even Star League era technology could not predict when one would occur, only the locals seemed to have the eerie ability to know in advance with any accuracy.

To Allen's left stood the unit's massive Atlas, the only fully functional and battle ready 'Mech in the ragtag group. By hoisting one of Yanskoff's light 'Mechs onto her 'Mechs shoulder, Wendy had protected her 'Mech from the brunt of the aerial assault. That action had the added bonus of providing a "take home" bag of spare parts and armor for her Atlas.

_If I had to choose one to be fully functional!_ Allen thought with some comfort as he glanced up from his damage console to observe the mighty titan hidden in the shadows.

Behind them, on either side of the cave were the remaining operational 'Mechs. Jessica's Maurader stood just back and right of Allen, the damage to the arms was mostly repaired. Which gave Jess one operational Long Range PPC and two Long Range Medium Lasers. However, the dorsal mounted autocannon was completely destroyed and the tech had explained that while there was little wrong with the right arm PPC, the simple part required to fix it was not in their supplies but, he happily announced, it would only cost a couple of C-Bills to get one later.

_Heh, poor guy! Jess seemed quite pleased with herself as she mounted her Maurader. _ _If scuttlebutt is to be believed it might have been kinder to have him shot than the detail she assigned him! _A flashing on his right console caught Allen's attention and snapped him back to the situation at hand.

_Judging by those seismic readings they are just about on top of us! According to the readings there is at least a Regiment coming! Dear God! They're going to stomp right through the camp! If they don't follow the trail Ryan's people hastily created into the storm, we're done._ Allen glanced at the far right and left sides of his compressed 3600 display strip that painted the rest of the unit's 'Mechs lined up along either wall, and further back the huddled groups of survivors in the far reaches of the cave, as red heat blooms against the cold black of the cave walls.

The vibrations from the swarm of 'Mechs passing overhead began to penetrate the walls of the cave and were becoming strong enough to be felt through Allen's command chair. The constant shaking started creating feedback in his neuro-helmet that was making him nauseous.

"One, this is Mongoose," Ryan's hushed voice broke Allen's concentration on his growing nausea. He was attempting to decide whether it was being caused by the feed back in his helmet or the physical awareness of the hoard overhead.

_I hope this cave can stand the pounding! _

"Mongoose, report."

"We've got 104 contacts,"

_ONE HUNDRED AND FOUR! Allen's mind reeled at the implications._

Ryan continued in his usual professional manner despite the fact that he was casually describing a force that could easily wipe their pitiful band from existence, "24 are medium, 12 are light the rest are heavy or assault. We're cross referencing seismic with passive sensors and camera views, we'll have a compete unit make-up by the time they pass."

"Pass?" Allen broke in, unable to contain himself, before Ryan could complete his report, anxious hope causing him to become nearly as giddy a death row prisoner who just found out the warden forgot to pay the electric bill.

"Yes, they are moving through at flank speed, " Ryan's voice seemed to be both pleased to be delivering this information with confidence and relieved at the same time, " at the speed their moving and maneuvering out into the storm I'd doubt they'd notice us if you walk all the 'Mechs out of the cave and lean on a tree!"

Laughter, born of long minutes of stress and anxiety, broke onto the command channel as those listening heard Ryan's light hearted assessment of their apparent survival.

Ten minutes later the shaking began to subside as the last of the assault 'Mechs waded out of the forest and into the violent storm beyond.

_They're headed for Astrokaszy City_ Allen thought, his feelings becoming bitter sweet, _our reprieve has become another's doom! {Naughty}ards! What kind of monsters are these scum?! They are absolutely driven to perform genocide against a nearly defenseless planet! _

As if reading his thoughts Jessica's voice cut in on their private command channel, "They're going to finish the job." A statement, not a question. "Any ideas on how to stop them?"

"No, " Allen replied quietly, " we wouldn't even draw off a company of those 'Mechs to buy those people some time, let alone stop them." Allen broke off bitterly.

"Think we can get to the Antelope?"

_Jessica sounds very tired. No. Resigned._

"I think…" Allen began, his tired mind refused to consider the fate he was leaving for the innocent people of Astrokaszy (if any one on Astrokaszy could be called innocent).

"One, Mongoose, new contact coming in fast!"

"Report!" Allen barked into his mic

"In progress, initial readings indicate one light, 20 tonner moving at over 100 klicks."

"Damn! That pilot must be suicidal, trying to navigate those trees at that speed! Is it a rear guard, or a straggler trying to catch up?"

"Unknown. The last 'Mech in the column seems to have noticed the approach and is slowing, 30 meters straight East of your position at the edge of the forest. "

_Directly in front of us then, great._ "Is there any communication to the new comer?"

"Negative, The storm is interfering with sensors and communications but that guy seems to have picked up the movement. Wait? The new comer, confirmed - it's a locust, is firing! Medium laser, slashing cut across the left leg, damage looks superficial at best."

"Firing? On what?"

"A Warhammer IIC! The others are continuing into the storm, thankfully, but that one is turning back.

"IIC? Clan second line?!" Allen's mind raced at the possibilities. _Damn! If this is some cursed outlaw Clan then we might be done for. How the Hell are we going to survive some genocidal Clan?_

"Confirmed, " Ryan's voice was tight, " a third of the 'Mechs we've verified were either Omni or second line Clan"

"Yanskoff, are you on?"

"Yeah pup, I'm here." Came the colonel's tight pirate like drawl.

"Is that Locust one of yours?" Allen demanded.

"Nope, we had none…" Yanskoff's voice trailed off as though in thought, "I only knew of a couple of Locusts on the planet, Caliph Anonrin had one, but he's clear on the other side of the planet and Sultan, what's 'is name? He got a couple but he's about 280 klicks North of here, his people could be in the area, but I doubt it. He never takes risks."

"Ok, so some suicidal Locust pilot has decided to take on 80 tons of Clan 'Mech. Soo, when do we engage?" Wendy's voice carried the eager tone all of the survivors felt, the need to repay these maniacs. Allen could practically hear Ryan straining to hear the go order.

_If we don't move the {Naughty} will slag another hapless soul who's either defending his home, or trying to avenge the fallen. We might get some salvage, given the way these {Naughts} are moving I doubt the Warhammer is going to stick around._ The very mercenary thought caused a twinge of guilt to lurch in Allen's gut. _On the other hand, if we wade into this, and deliver a much needed can of whoop-ass we might get some more intel but the rest of that force may come back._

Allen's mind was working overtime, ethics battling with responsibility, cold logistics warring with conscience. Then like thunder piercing a howling wind the answer came to him. _ The storm is the answer!_

"Ryan, the storm is affecting sensors and comm. right? How far out do the rest have to be before this straggler can no longer reach them?"

Ryan's voice was filled with knowing delight as he responded, "Right! 500 meters would be my best guess with Clan tech, the last of their column will pass beyond that in 30 seconds. Special Forces are all reporting green, Sir."

"Right! Give me 35, with a count down at 10. Wendy, you and I will pounce on the mark."

"Acknowledged." Wendy sounded down right giddy at the coming prospects.

Finally armed with a tactical situation that allowed him to exercise his particular talent Allen began delivering his orders, his voice filled with a command presence most Inner Sphere Generals would envy.

"Jess, you and Reverend move forward and stand just undercover in case they discover where we came from, the rest move up in order. But stay put! I don't want to have any more strength reported than necessary in case we're wrong about their comm. Wendy, Hit your ECM the second we break cover, if the call gets out we finish this guy fast and break into the forest, we need to lead them away from this area. If we get separated proceed to Victor Tango thirty-three, Delta Gamma twelve, or Alpha one-four in descending order. Ryan your people are the last line, if they discover our little hiding place blow what you have and create a distraction! Jess, if this goes south, get everyone to the DropShip and get off this planet!"

"What about…" Jessica started, but Allen spoke over her, answering her question before it was formed.

"Get out system and spread the word. Wendy and I will go to ground if you get out before we can get to you. We're not going to survive here long without help, that little parade only represents a third of what we saw as they burned in, if that was the only landing! Get the word out before you think to come back. And don't worry about us, Hey, we survived the Falcons." Allen added, inflecting as much humor into his voice as he could muster.

_Thirty seconds._

The tactical map painted the Warhammer IIC 30 meters straight ahead and the Locust 50 meters behind to the left. Three dimensional images created by the battle computer from information fed via Ryan's sensors spread throughout the area showed the Locust firing again with it's Medium Laser, then breaking right behind a nearby tree as the Warhammer opened up with both ER PPCs. Both 'Mechs' shots went wide of their targets. The Warhammer began re-entering the forest at a slow walk, no doubt the pilot was cautious because his 'Mech's sensors were having difficulty penetrating the foliage, and getting intermittent readings due to the massive trees, who's heavy iron content all but blinded 'Mech sensors. Leaving the Pilot to hunt visually. However, the apparent battle was so lopsided that there was little doubt about the out come.

_Appearances can be deceiving._ Allen thought mischievously.

_Twenty seconds._

The Warhammer had moved to 15 meters from the cave, swinging left, then right around two of the trees. The Locust was now 35 meters behind Allen's position to the right. The Locust snapped off a shot and scored a hit on the massive 'Mechs' chest. Unfortunately, the Locust's weapon only marred the assault 'Mechs' paint. The Locust just made it around behind the next tree when man-made lightning tore through the space where it was standing a moment ago.

_At this rate, it would take that Locust pilot a month to wear that Warhammer down to a point where they __**might**__ be equal! I just hope he stays lucky until we're ready. Keep Moving!_ Allen Willed the little icon that represented the Locust.

_Ten seconds._

The Warhammer had stopped 10 meters from the cave entrance, with the Locust still circling 25 meters out. Shots were again exchanged, the Locust pilot's luck held as the Warhammer's shots passed scant meters from the small 'Mech. However, this time the Locust missed as well.

_Eight seconds._

The Locust scored another hit with his laser, and added his machine guns to the mix. The Warhammer pilot remained in his position to get a better lock but only managed to nick the Locust with a Medium Laser.

_Seven seconds._

_What's the Warhammer pilot doing? He's walking in this direction with his torso rotating to track the little bug that keeps sniping at him! He's down to 6 meters!_ Allen brought all his weapons to bear, but refrained from using a weapons lock to prevent the Warhammer pilot from detecting him.

_Five seconds._

_God! If he doesn't stop he'll walk right into the cave! Three meters, two, one!_

_Three seconds._

The Warhammer stopped just one meter from the cave entrance, thinking it was a solid wall, and using it as a natural shield to force the Locust to come into a narrowed field of fire.

Allen cut the connection to the command lines, and pressed the button to eject the hard connection.

_Two seconds._

Another laser shot passed over the Warhammer's left shoulder and penetrated into the cave, just above the Atlas' head.

_One second…._

The Warhammer pilot's plan worked, and his right PPC connected with the lightly armored left leg of the Locust, cutting it cleanly off. The Locust toppled in slow motion to the right.

_Mark!_

ECM jamming squealed in Allen's ear as both assault 'Mechs moved forward as one. Wendy was faster though and setting her left arm out and slightly up in front of her while moving her right arm up, as though brushing the overhanging vines out of the way, she reached forward with her 'Mechs' left hand and grabbed the Warhammer by the shoulder and brought her right fist down hard on the cockpit!

And it was over. Allen's hands shook, fingers hovering over the firing stubs. The speed with which 80 tons of Clan 'Mech was reduced to free standing sculpture left Allen stunned, and contemplating his own mortality.


	8. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

**Victor Bravo 117,** **Northern edge of the Oasis Forest, Astrokaszy**

**Vondrasek protectorate****  
****Periphery ****  
****7 June 3059**

**20:15:00 localtime**

Allen finished pouring his coffee and turned back to the table in the center of the make-shift command center. In the rush since the Warhammer encounter he was still wearing his cooling vest, light tee-shirt and shorts. He and Wendy had dragged the metal statue back into the cave, while Ryan's people extracted the Locust dare devil from his toppled 'Mech. After no 'Mechs from the assault force had immediately returned, Allen had decided to take the risk and get the Warhammer operational again. Of course, the techs were attempting to extract any information from the decapitated 'Mech while at the same time attempting to get the war machine operational. The poor tech who had so aggravated Jess earlier drew the gruesome duty of carefully removing the remains of the 'Mech warrior and checking for any clue about his identity.

_Poor guy! Should have just had him shot_ Allen thought with some genuine sympathy for the young technician as he noticed him and two other techs enter the command center. Ron Christenson, the Privateers' chief tech led the way, carrying a two foot by one foot black box that had obviously been smashed from above. Behind him came Jennifer Hawkins, Ron's number two and a brilliant tech in her own right, along side Steve Williams, the unfortunate tech who now seemed to have made Jess' permanent {Naughty - excrement} list.

Ron threw the broken device on the table as the other two techs lingered back against the wall just inside the center "door". Allen, and the others gathered for this strategy meeting, pressed in around the table. Gathered here were all the 'Mech warriors, with the exception of Wendy who was using her Atlas' massive hands to help reform the Warhammer's cockpit, and Ryan as well as other key operational staff. Allen glanced again at Steve, as he stood staring at the dirt floor and shifting uneasily against the wall. He looked positively green as he took a long draw on a cigarette. Allen couldn't remember ever seeing the young tech smoking before, but he could only imagine the images that were haunting those young eyes.

_I have got to talk with Jess about backing off that guy!_

Allen turned his attention back to the meeting at hand, "So, let's start with sit-reps." He nodded to Ryan to begin.

"Right, " Ryan began, carefully eyeing the black box on the table, "The area now appears clear of contacts, we have recorded and matched up all of the 'Mech designs that passed through. As mentioned before, one third were Clan Omni or Second Line, the rest were some modified versions of Inner Sphere 'Mechs. We know they were upgraded in one form or another due to their seismic profiles, exterior modifications and other passive sensor readings. One thing to note, that while a full third of their number were of Clan origin, none of the Inner Sphere designs were newer than 3025."

Allen's eyebrows crawled toward the ceiling at this news. His eyes meet with Ryan's and Jess' in turn, each seemed to consider this an important tidbit. Yanskoff didn't appear to have caught the paradox of old Inner Sphere mixed with Clan in a single unit. Allen stole a glance over his shoulder to where the prisoner was still tied to his chair, and made a mental note of the mix of expressions working their way over his features.

Ryan continued unbroken, "The Locust that **dropped in** is old, the manufacturer's label still reads March 2500! We pulled two people out of the cockpit," several 'Mech warriors exchanged incredulous looks as Ryan continued with a smirk, "how they both got in there I'll never know. Apparently, we've got one young lady, who did all the fancy piloting and young man who claims to be the tech. Both tell the same story, they were secretly out with their 'Mech, which their families don't know they have (they are a little sketchy about how they came to own it), when a swarm of fighters passed south of them. The Locust was powered down at the time while the young man attempted to recalibrate the Gyro, without a proper assembly I might add. It took them a full hour to get "the bucket," as they call it, up and running again and storm back to their homes, only to find them destroyed. What they describe is heavy aerial bombardment." Ryan paused to let everyone digest the report thus far before continuing, "both feel they've lost everything and are eager to join our group, Allen I think they are genuine and perhaps we should give them a chance, but they're VERY green, like no formal training green. No matter how talented that girl is with that Locust, I wouldn't rely too heavily on them except to draw fire."

"Ok, " Allen began slowly, his mind working over these latest pieces of the puzzle. "Well, we could always use another 'Mech, even a Locust. I assume that it's a stock Locust?"

Ryan nodded.

"Alright, if they agree to undergo some formal training and let us put someone a little more predictable in "the bucket" for the time being then their in. I can't have a loose cannon in a fire fight. Ron, it looks as if you've got a little show and tell for us. Go ahead." For the first time Allen noticed Dingo eyeing the black box intently. His expression a cross between a scientist performing a nano-analysis and a cat standing in lava before the gates of Hades, ready to bolt.

"Well, I know why the others didn't return to find out what happened to their buddy. What we've been able to figure out is not good. First, it was a good thing Wendy pounded that lunatic. This was located half a meter behind the command chair and one meter below the cockpit floor. Anything short of an Atlas and she'd never have driven deep enough to crush it."

Unable to contain himself any longer in the face of the engineer's rambling Allen broke into his description, "Ok, so what is it?"

"It's a optical self-destruct transceiver with a crystalline neuro-web interface." Dingo drawled in his Australian accent.

The room stood in shocked silence. Many in the room would have bet a years salary that Dingo couldn't say transceiver, let alone rattle off that description! Ron looked more stunned than anyone else. Allen was aware of Dingo's past, he grew up in the "outback" (which roughly translates to the deep periphery) and spent his early career working for one of the galaxies more unsavory pirates. Allen had seen the honesty in his eyes when he explained that he wanted a legitimate career and agreed to take him on.

"Yes, well, it is a self-destruct, " Ron began in a fluster.

"Dingo, " Allen's calm voice broke through Ron's attempt to save face, "tell us what you know."

Dingo never took his eyes off the broken device, which had four three centimeter diameter cables protruding from each of it's two foot sides and a single seven centimeter diameter cable extending out of each end. "I've seen this kind only once before, " he began in a voice so quite that everyone had to lean in to hear, "way out, mind you. 'Old blood and guts wanted something to ensure the loyalty of his men. You know, they weren't the dependable types. He figured I was one of his most trustworthy so he took me and a couple of others as security. We went deep out, like real deep out.

Can't say how far for sure, just that the JumpShip capt'n kept whinin' about goin' back. Anyways, I was standin' as personal guard when this hooded bloke shows the old man one of these, " he pointed, carefully, at the box, "explained what it could do. Said anyone with one rigged to their 'Mech wouldn't think twice about double crossing him. Said it was near impossible to disarm because of the crystalline network, operated at the speed of light because of the optical processors, and could be detonated by remote. The worst of it, " he barely suppressed a shutter, " is the neuro links fry the warrior's brain. In the end, even old blood and guts himself thought the devices were too much." Dingo whispered the last sentence as though he was standing on his own grave.

Silence permeated the small command center.

"Great," Allen began slowly. His eyes scanning the faces of the assembled. All had a mix of shock, turning to horror as the full implications of such a device sunk in. All but the techs, predictably, who were mixing their shock with technical wonderment as they quickly huddled together and began talking rapid fire.

"So basically, these guys will fight till the end and even then they'll simply blow up unless Wendy can sneak up on each of them in turn and pound them just right." The humor Allen tried to interject was lost on all except the techs who looked up from their little huddle long enough to chuckle over their shoulders and return to their discussion.

"Ron, " Allen paused just long enough for Ron to look in his direction, "how was the 'Mech rigged to detonate?"

The animated expression Ron had been wearing when he look up dropped to the floor, "Well, "he began, "as far as we can tell it could have gone two ways. Explosives were set on separate paths, one would blow the exoskeleton hard points and vital systems, the other… well, would have turned the 'Mech into a large bomb, depending on how much ammo was left and the current engine conditions. Our best guess that the latter would have taken anything within 20 meters of the 'Mech. It would have taken the whole cave out, Sir" He paused, obviously wrestling with some decision. His face tightened, clearly coming to a decision, he added, "We can't tell for sure, but... there is a sort of third path, well more like a 2B. And, it might be possible that, well, given the configuration of the explosives and under combat conditions, with the engine at maximum output..."

"Dammit Ron! Spit it out!" Allen snapped.

"Each 'Mech could be a fusion bomb, yield unknown."

Allen looked skyward and closed his eyes, contemplating this. _The news keeps getting better and better. If we engage in combat we either win it all or lose, no middle ground. AND, now, if we get to the point were we have them down to the last 'Mech they could still wipe us all out!_

Allen looked down and surveyed the faces, even Yanskoff and his remaining warriors seemed to be looking to Allen for guidance. And Allen had it to give. He began, again with his best voice of authority, "Right! Suicidal Clan or not, this enemy is beyond our ability to deal with, we're getting out of here and put out the call for help. Yanskoff, you and your people are welcome to join us, we'll take every 'Mech we can get aboard our DropShip in order of operability. Ron, how long before that Warhammer is ready?"

"Ahh, " Ron began as he tallied the required repairs in his head, "At least another hour, we had to clear the explosives before we could start."

"Ok, " Allen started again, "I want to be ready to roll in two hours. Dingo, your Shadow Hawk is near useless at this point, want to try a IIC?"

Dingo shook his head no before Allen could finnish, "NO SIR! I'll draw fire with my girl, or take that Locust, but I ain't gettin' in any 'Mech that's been rigged with one of these before!"

Allen could see there was no point in arguing the point, "Fine, you take the Locust and that girl can pilot your 'Hawk, I want to keep it moving and she seems to be able to do that quite well. Yanskoff, your checked out on a WarHammer, right." Allen winked in Yanskoff's direction.

Yanskoff's face sprung into a knowing smile as he replied with some genuine supprise, "Yeah pup."

"OK, the IIC is yours for now. Ryan, clear the camp and get ready to move, we're cutting straight through the storm toward the LZ. I am no longer concerned about being followed; we need off this rock as soon as possible. Besides, this storm will mask us as well as anything else. Let's just hope it lasts. Oh, and one other thing, " he added as everyone started to leave, "Ryan cut that guy loose, " he jerked his thumb in the direction of the Clan prisoner, " and give him back his equipment."

Ryan and the prisoner both looked confused as they looked at each other and back at Allen but Allen provided the explanation as he turned to look at the Clan business man, "There has been a lot of death on this world, and there's more to come. I have no love for the Clans but I've no desire to add to this carnage. You've heard what we know. We are getting out of here. You should find your friends and do the same."

With that Allen turned and led the way out of the command center and headed back to prepare his 'Mech.

**Victor Bravo 117,** **Northern edge of the Oasis Forest, Astrokaszy**

**Vondrasek protectorate****  
****Periphery ****  
****7 June 3059**

**21:25:00 localtime**

"Mongoose, status?" Allen called into his helmet pickups.

"We'll be ready in 10, Leader." Ryan sounded harried.

Allen leaned forward to view the perimeter around his BattleMaster. Dozens of small figures ran this way and that, weaving between knots of survivors, vehicles, and 'Mechs, getting the convoy ready for the dangerous trip through the storm. All along the walls of the cave 'Mech warriors were in various final stages of prepping their war machines. Allen punched up magnification on the 'Mech half way to the back of the cave on the opposite side. The Warhammer IIC enlarged. It's cockpit assembly had a distinctly beaten look to it where Wendy had smashed it in, and then used her Atlas' hands to assist the techs in making the 'Mech operational again. It gave the otherwise pristine Warhammer a comical drunken and disheveled look.

_I hope this gamble pays off,_ Allen thought as his sensors did a run down of the Clan 'Mech. _I'm still not sure giving Yanskoff a 'Mech that powerful was the best decision. But I need a good pilot in that 'Mech and it wins him back the respect of his men. Which I HOPE he remembers._ The after images of the argument after the briefing he had with Jess over giving Yanskoff any 'Mech, let alone the 80 ton IIC flashed through Allen's mind. _I thought she was going to go nova when I changed subject halfway through and ordered her to back off Williams. _

"Leader, this is Mongoose, we are just about ready."

"Affirmative Mongoose, has our guest departed?"

"Affirmative, 20 minutes ago."

"Right, keep me posted." Allen switched over to the unit wide frequency, "All units, we are almost ready to move out. If you don't already know, we're headed to the Antelope in the Veiled Mountain Range, for those new to our merry band that's our DropShip. Our JumpShip, Holstave's Dream, is due back in system for update or extraction in three days. If we push we can make it to the Antelope in one, one and a half. That would give us enough time at maximum burn to get pretty close."

_No point burdening them with the probability that we'll be chased the whole way by a fleet of DropShips with an armada worth of fighters at their disposal. One thing at a time._

"We're going to move out in a diamond formation. Wendy has the lead, I'll take left flank, Jessica your on the right, Yanskoff bring up the rear."

Affirmatives with a single "yeah pup, whatever you say" came from each as the orders when out.

"All perimeter units will maintain 250 meters from the main column, Reverend, you are the central controller we relay communications through you."

"Yes Sir! The Good Lord will deliver us this day!" The Reverend's 70 ton Warhammer appeared to shake with fervor as his voice reverberated with his best Sermon delivery.

"Amen, Reverend. Dingo, I want you to sweep 250 meters out from the perimeter, check in with each of us as you make a pass."

"Yess, Sir. I hope this Locust doesn't startle any of you as I pop out of the storm." Delight filled Dingo's voice.

"Better pop out slowly, " Wendy cut in, "_Precious_ doesn't react well to surprises."

"Ahhh, right." Dingo began again, hesitation edging into his voice, "I don't want to go upsetting _Precious._"

Allen laughed out loud, _Dingo sounded giddy at prospect of running through a deadly storm in an ancient 20 ton __**stock**__ Locust searching for signs of a technologically advanced enemy that was both suicidal and genocidal! But faced with Wendy in her Atlas he'd err on the side of caution._

"Ok, if that's settled. Stay alert people! This storm can swallow us all in a minute, and somewhere out there is a couple of regiments of maniacs looking to wipe all life off this planet. We drive through as fast as we can. Ryan you and your people do everything possible to keep the column moving. Let's get to the Antelope and get the hell out of here. Let's let the super powers that be clean up this mess. Let's move out!"


	9. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

**Black Pearl Desert, Astrokaszy**

**130 Kilometers** **NE of the Oasis Forest****  
****Periphery ****  
****7 June 3059**

**24:37:00 localtime**

"Heads up, Striker. Don't want frighten you or _Precious_." Dingo never tired of certain games, and this one had been going on for three hours.

Wendy however got tired of Dingo's games quickly.

"Shut up Dingo, you miscreant!" Up until now she had let him have his fun, but this was getting old. Walking through the storm was solemn business, operating under relative radio silence and surrounded by a raging sand storm which dropped visibility to zero meant for most of the march each warrior was left to their own thoughts. Thoughts that more often than not turned back to the dire circumstances that brought them to where they were right now. Dingo's nattering with each pass actually broke up the monotony, but Wendy had had about enough of this particular introduction.

"Dingo you moron, I have you on sensors 6 minutes before you open up with some stupid variation of that "gee, didn't want to scare you" bit." Truth be told, the _Precious_, her completely updated 100 ton Atlas, could "see" nearly as far as any Clan 'Mech.

"Oh. Right. Might make sense for me to run a little further out then, 'cause this _Bucket_ can't see much past 270 meters. I'm bet'n that you can almost see that far now."

"Yeah, just as well, you can move out another 200 meters and still be well within my range."

"Roger. 20 C-Bills says I find more sand."

Wendy chuckled but didn't respond. She actually liked Dingo's brand of humor, not that she'd ever admit it, nor live it down if the truth ever got out.

_Damn I miss Hopper. Now, that guy was funny!_ Wendy's thoughts turned from happy, at the reminiscent memories of Johnsten's constant optimism, to depressed about another comrade yet to be properly mourned.

"Well, Well," Dingo broke in over the comm., his voice staticky through the Locust's underpowered comm. system, "What do I have here? Sand. What a surprise!"

"Ok Dingo, point taken, start swinging around…" Wendy began.

"CONTACT!" Dingo yelled over the line. A staticky live sensor feed sprung to life on Wendy's HUD showing multiple contacts strung out in a ragged line all across the Locust's sensor range.

"Reverend, Contact, live feed incoming!" Wendy called as she punched in the relay commands. "Dingo, pull back! I'll move closer, I can get the Intel at a safer range."

The long range proximity alarm blared in Wendy's ear as the long range sensors began painting new contacts all along the left edge of her sensor's range. "Dingo, break off! Reverend, relay to all units, I have massive contact readings we're about to be surrounded!"

"ALL UNITS this is Leader, "came the immediate response, "fall back to the column! We've got confirmed contacts all along the front and left sides of the column. Mongoose, I want you and the column to break right and back."

Wendy was about to confirm the withdraw command and turn in the column's direction when Dingo's HUD relay caught her eye.

"Dingo withdrawing." Dingo began the rundown of acknowledgments, followed quickly by the others.

_Something isn't right here._ Wendy glared hard at the flickering HUD relay.

"Leader this is Striker, I'm moving forward to investigate."

Allen had already turned his Battlemaster and had begun heading back to the column when Wendy signaled she was heading toward the contacts. _WHAT?! _ Allen's mind screamed, but before he bellowed a counter command he paused, "Striker, what have you got?" _Better to trust in your people, than try to micromanage_.

"Dingo's signal was sporadic but I don't think this is a 'Mech column."

Allen checked his sensor readings again, _she's right!_ Allen slowed his 'Mech to a walk.

"Leader, this is Fox Two, what's ou.. p..ay."

"Two, your signal is starting to break up. Keep the column moving away and send Dingo back to act as runner. Acknowledge."

"Ack..le..ged, Din.o on ..he way."

Allen veered toward Wendy's last position, his Battlemaster leaning hard against the driving winds. _I hope Dingo doesn't get lost in this mess!_ Lightning flashed through the storm, very near by. Allen jumped in his command chair, _Damn this {Naughty} is starting to get to me!._ He keyed the comm. channel again, " Striker, report?"

No response. Allen checked his sensors which painted the green "friendly" contact at the edge of his range, fading in and out.

"Striker, report, " he called again. A second green contact flared to life on the opposite side of his display, running at high speed along the edge and fading in and out as well. _Dammit Dingo! Your heading the wrong way! He can't see us in this soup with the limited range in that bucket!_

"Dingo, this is Leader, your headed the wrong way. Come left to heading 2-7-0!" Allen knew Dingo couldn't respond at this range, but watched intently for several seconds to see if the little icon changed direction. Instead of changing direction the icon vanished from the display again. _This keeps getting worse and worse!_

"Striker, this is Leader, Dingo is off course and headed straight for the contacts, I'm breaking off to pursue."

"R..ger, Lea.." Wendy's voice broke through the static, "..'re ok. Con…t ….. Awaiting your ….."

"Striker, Stay Put! I'm marking your position so I can navigate back!" _And if I don't hurry Dingo's going to run straight into that line of contacts, while our column's running blindly off into this storm!_

Without waiting for a reply, Allen made several marker points on his map to show distance from current location and broke into a full run in the direction he last saw Dingo headed. Long minutes crawled by without any contact on his display._ I should have known better than to request Dingo take that half blind antiquated {Naughty} alone into this looking for us! Shouldn't __**I**__ be able to see that column of contacts by now?!_ Suddenly a single green icon bleeped for a second now on the right side of his display straight ahead, before fading out again. _What's he doing?_ _He's running all over the {Naughty} map!_

Another flash of lightening seared the ground very near by, causing Allen's whole HUD to flicker. The contact he had pegged as Dingo flashed into existence again.

"DAMMIT DINGO! STAY STILL!" Allen yelled into his mic, to no avail, the contact vanished again. Only to reappear two heart beats later, this time it wasn't moving. Allen repeated his hail as he approached, each time there was no response. As he got closer his sensors informed him that the Locust was, in fact, powering down!

"Dingo, have you gone nuts?!"

With only 4 meters remaining between the two war machines a small sounding Australian voice answered. Allen could tell that his signal wasn't coming from the 'Mech's comm. system. "No Sir! I've been running around back tracking to your last known position, but this lightning keeps scrambling the guidance system. Then a minute ago I thought I heard a signal off in this direction and figured it might be you or Striker, so I bolted in the direction."

_Great! The storm is reflecting our comm. signals!_ Allen thought as Dingo continued.

"Then I got hit with this lightning strike and the whole command console starts going berserk! So I initiated a shutdown, I just hope the thing will restart!"

"How are you broadcasting if all the 'Mech's systems are down?" Allen queried.

"I brought along a handheld just in case. I still don't really trust this _bucket_"

Allen chuckled as he walked around the Locust and leaned in close to survey the damage. There was a scorch mark just aft of the cockpit, but other than that the little 'Mech seemed fine. _Let's hope that boy is a real good tech!_

"Ok Dingo, try bringing it back up. I've marked your position on my guidance systems but I've got to get back to Wendy's position. The column must be half way to the Southern hemisphere by now! I don't want to loose everyone! Stay put, and hunker down. I'll be back as soon as possible. If you have to move, and can't stay in the area, make your way back to the forest. As soon as the storm breaks head to the LZ. Got it?"

"Yes Sir! Hurry back, I don't fancy sitting blind in this sand soup for long."

"Right, Leader out." With that Allen charged back to the place he had marked as Wendy's last known position. Navigating by HUD only, buffeted by winds high enough to stagger his 'Mech, and stumbling on the ever shifting sand dunes, getting back seemed to take an eternity. Just as he began to wonder if his guidance systems were experiencing the same problems Dingo described, his HUD started painting contacts, _That's a LOT of red!_ Allen thought with some reservation about continuing, then a single green icon appeared in the center of the sea of red. Allen slowed to a walk to assess the situation.

_Those aren't 'Mech signatures, they're people! _ As he approached the sea of red continued to spread over his HUD. _Hundreds, no thousands of people! What the {Naughty} is going on?_

"Lea..er, this is ..iker" Wendy's broken voice sprang to life in Allen's ear.

"Roger, Striker, what's the situation?"

"Survivors Sir, "Wendy began, her signal getting stronger with each step Allen took, "mostly from Astrokaszy City. They would like to have a word."

Relief spread through Allen's body. "Roger Striker, but you'll have to entertain for a little while, I've got to go track down the column and round up Dingo. His Locust had some difficulties with this weather." Allen continued with his best imitation of Dingo's Australian accent, "Seems he went for a "Walk about" and got lost."

Wendy's laughter boomed over the command line, between gasps she stammered, "Right, tell Dingo I'll hold his hand next time so he doesn't get lost."

"Affirmative, Leader out." Allen chuckled as he cut the comm. _I hope the column isn't moving too fast! Or worse, getting as turned around as Dingo in this miserable {Naughty - excrement}._

Not for the first time since the march through the storm had begun, Allen wished they could use the VTOLs, instead of having them strapped to the cargo bed of the sand crawlers.

It took two hours to track down the column, round up Dingo and get everyone back to Wendy's position. Happily Jess realized that they didn't need to be too far away to be at a save distance in this storm, so the column members had simply dug in just a kilometer from their previous position.

**Black Pearl Desert, Astrokaszy**

**130 Kilometers** **NE of the Oasis Forest****  
****Periphery ****  
****7 June 3059**

**27:16:25 localtime**

Wind tore at Allen as he ascended his Battlemaster causing him to loose his hand hold. Briefly he caught himself, but just enough to swing around and bounce off his 'Mech's leg. His grip lost he fell free of the ladder landing hard on his back in the sand. Two meters isn't a great distance to fall, especially when you land on a bed of sand, but in a swirling sand storm with zero visibility Allen had only instinct to tell him he had a short fall to the ground, rather than a potentially deadly ten meter fall. The short freefall was not unpleasant, just scary, but the quick stop at the end still managed to knock the wind out of him. Allen lay still for a moment, catching his breath, and letting the face plate of this light environmental suit come back into focus.

_I better start moving again!_ Allen thought as soon as his vision began to clear, _I'm going to be buried alive in this sand if I stay here much longer_. That wasn't an understatement, in just a few seconds his legs and torso had already begun to disappear under a layer of sand. Using his 'Mech's direction beacon to reorient himself, Allen felt around like a blind man through the storm until he again found his 'Mech and began clamoring back up the ladder.

Finally dogging closed the hatch on his 'Mech, Allen collapsed against the bulk head and began removing his suit. Pulling off the helmet Allen swore aloud. He proceeded to store his environmental suit and re-situate himself in his command chair. His comm. console was already blinking at him as he lowered his neuro-helmet and issued the release commands to restore his war machine to normal operational mode.

"Leader, respond," came Jess' voice before his systems were fully active.

"Go two."

"What kept you?"

Allen rolled his eyes and sighed, "felt the need to play in the sand, but it's not as much fun as I remember." Allen's voice dripped with dry humor.

Several chuckles broke over the comm. as Jess continued her own tone sparkling with mischief, "If I'd known I'd have brought you a shovel."

More laughter echoed over the line as Jess, obviously struggling not to laugh herself, continued, "Soo, what's the story? "

"Well, they got to the point quickly, they don't have a full head count, but they think they've got 50 thousand plus, " a low whistle could be heard in the mist of the background noise, "and they're headed for a system of caves over in the Warrior's Despair region of the Veiled Mountains. That's roughly 20 klicks South of our destination. I told them our plan, but the Antelope can't take a fraction of their numbers. Hell we'd need a fleet of _Flying Fortresses_ to begin moving that many! So we agreed that we're going to continue along our original plans. We both felt that we've lost a great deal of time with our little encounter. Night is falling and they tell me the storm looks to have teeth for a while yet. We're going to get the word out and they're going to ground until the coast is clear. They've given me some contact names to try in the Magistracy that might cause enough of a stir to get them here to mop up. The old Sultan seems to think the Magestrix wouldn't take well to a force the size of the one we've identified sitting on her back porch."

"No kidding!" Dingo broke in, before Jess could respond, "I doubt the Free Worlds League would appreciate it very much either."

"Ok so it's on to the Antelope then," Jess finally interjected.

"Right, we've picked up some help in the form of a couple of elderly gentlemen who feel they can guide us through this storm better than we can. The price is safe passage for them and what's left of their families. To prove their point, they pointed out that we are, in fact, 2 klicks off our planned route and heading further away."

"WHAT?" Dingo broke in again, "_Precious_ has led us astray?" Peels of laughter could be heard bouncing off the closed-in walls of the Locust.

"Careful Dumbgo, _Precious_ can't see the mountains from here, but she can alpha strike a Locust cockpit without scoring the paint around the canopy! I can see you, can you see me?"

The laughter stopped cold, "Ahh Leader, where is Striker?"

Allen laughed along with the rest of the unit. "Right, if we're finished…"

A light lit up on Allen's console indicating a message from Ryan. A sequence of keys later and the coded text message appeared on Allen's HUD,

_**Leader One, meet with representatives of the "Khalifat of Tazi." Very informative. Detailed report later.**_

_Short and to the point_ Allen reflected as he signaled Ryan his "Message received" code.

"Leader, this is, Ahh, oh hell what is it? I forgot my code name. This is Ron."

_Techs_ Allen thought with exasperation. "_**Squirrel**_, go ahead."

"Squirrel? How did I get the code name squirrel?"

"Call sign, squirrel, and you get a new one… NEVER MIND!" Allen couldn't believe this guy ever signed up for a military unit! The man didn't have a military bone in his body! "What is it?"

"Jennifer, I mean…"

"Never mind squirrel, just continue…" Allen felt more tired talking with Ron than climbing up his Battlemaster in this storm.

"Right, well, Jen and that new guy are making progress on that device! They think they can extract the remote detonate code. One of them anyway!"

"New guy?" Allen asked.

"Yeah, Dillan the Locust tech."

"Right, continue." Allen wondered if he should scream or pound his head against the bulkheads. _He lets the newest member of our group, a complete unknown, work on a self-destruct device while riding in the middle of our convoy. Who needs spies, with techs like Ron willing to invite anyone technical to sit down and explore whatever we have at the moment?_

Despite this Allen turned his attention back to what Ron was driving at. He got the feeling that this might be significant but wasn't getting what Ron was excited about, "Do they think they can decrypt the code?"

"NOoo, "Ron began like a exasperated professor talking to a student who they didn't feel was ever going to be at their level, "we don't need to break the code, just extract and broadcast it!"

Allen opened his mic to ask another question, then paused. _What good is broadcasting an encrypted code? Unless…_

"Are you suggesting that their 'Mechs would detonate if we simply extract and broadcast a code from the device?" Jess beat Allen to the punch.

"Sort of, "Ron responded, "The devices are in a cascading series, so there is actually a series of unique codes for each 'Mech. As a unit, one 'Mech receives, or a commander would enter, the broad unit destruct code and before blowing, the device in the original 'Mech in the chain applies an algorithm and resends. They go off in a chain like series. Don't get me wrong, you'll never notice the time lag; the radio signal and optical processors both operate at the speed of light, so unless you're a real long way away then the effect is near instantaneous. But the double linked chain makes sense, that way anyone who knows the proper sequence can start the chain reaction from any point in the chain. The catch here seems to be that who ever made this device actually hard coded a destruct code into the device, probably assuming that since their device is fool and tamper proof that no one would ever know."

"What kind of range are we talking about?" Allen queried.

"Oh, I don't know, it's actually a microwave transmitter so the signal would pass through solid objects and it's a pretty powerful, it gets amplified by the 'Mechs power plant. Oh, I'd say, couple thousand kilometers, give or take."

"Ok, so, "Allen started slowly, "what path is hard coded to blow? You did mention something about each 'Mech being a fusion bomb!"

"Yeah, well, we can't tell. Some of the optical circuits were crushed when Wendy, I mean Striker, Ahh," Ron seemed to struggle in finding the right description," disabled the 'Mech. Which is a good thing," he added quickly, "because that's what stopped it from self-destructing in the first place."

A quiet chuckle could be heard over the comm. just before Allen responded, "Ok, keep working on it and keep me updated but we'll treat it as a last resort. I haven't checked my Battlemaster owner's manual but I'm pretty sure my 'Mech's not rated to stand on a sun!"

Even as the conversation had been progressing the two columns had separated and began moving in their respective directions. The Privateer's had resumed their diamond formation with Dingo running in an orbit. Their new guides, despite utter darkness within a solid mass of swirling sand, seemed to quite adept at finding their way across the desert.


	10. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

**Death's crater, Veiled Mountain Range, Astrokaszy****  
****Periphery ****  
****8 June 3059**

**02:00:00 localtime**

Michelle sat alone in the half dark lounge aboard the Antelope, staring at the sand spinning through the darkness of the Astrokaszy night creating intricate patterns against the space ship's "window". Steam from her latest cup of coffee drifted up to partially obscure her vision, drawing her attention back to the table. Up until an hour ago the battle suit soldiers who rescued her had been keeping her company, loudly complaining about the orders from the space ship's Captain. They had been ordered to "stand down" in the face of this storm instead of being allowed to go out in search of the rest of their unit. They were very creative in their descriptive opinion of their orders and the "real" reasons behind them.

She hadn't been able to sleep since her rescue, and even the sleep aids provided by the ships medic only afforded her short bursts of restless sleep. Five hours ago she gave up trying and decided to come up to the lounge she had been told about by a friendly crewman. On the way up she stopped to check in on Jennifer in the medical center. She had been in a near catatonic state since the rescue, and the medics felt they should keep a watch on her. Getting little more than one word answers and the occasional grunt after an hour Michelle had wished her good night and headed toward the lounge.

Now she was alone in the empty lounge. Circular tables were widely spread throughout the large room, which encompassed nearly a third of this floor of the ship. According to the diagram on the display, this floor was devoted to recreation rooms. Adjacent to this lounge was an exercise room, which was currently locked, Michelle had tried it two hours ago.

The overhead lights blinked out, pitching Michelle into total darkness. Panic shot up her spine like lightening, but this time she managed not to scream. The first couple of times she had screamed from the time the lights went out until they came back on. This was the umpteenth time it happened, it was almost therapeutic. Now she just felt a shot of panic, which she was able to control, and then her nerves were simply on edge until the room lights returned.

Which they did just a minute later. _They must be getting closer to fixing whatever is causing that._ Michelle thought absently taking another sip of what these people passed off as coffee. The door to the lounge slid open, startling Michelle who spun around in her chair. Captain Olstad strode into the room rubbing what appeared to be a fresh bruise on her forehead.

"Damned engineers! Valuable technicians my ass!" She muttered. The woman in her mid-thirties stopped short as she took notice of Michelle.

"Well, I didn't think anyone would be up," She broke into a grin as she continued to stride over to an inconspicuous section of the inner wall. "Can't sleep?" She asked as she performed a series of rhythmic taps on the wall using both fists, elbows and her hip. Michelle simply nodded in response as she strained to watch what the Captain was doing. The panel slid away from waist height, half way up to the ceiling. The Captain reached inside with her left arm, her face pinched together in concentration. She seemed to root around for a minute before her expression lightened and she pulled out two largish beer bottles. "The crew doesn't think I know about this little stash," she said with a wink, "God they must think I'm stupid." She kicked the lower wall with her heel as she turned, causing the panel to slide back into place, and strode over to Michelle's table.

"Mind if I join you?" She indicated the empty chair to Michelle's right with one of the beer bottles.

"Please, Captain," Michelle responded trying to sound as pleasant as possible.

"Sorry I haven't had time to come talk to you since your arrival, but this ship will be the death of me." The Captain rolled her eyes tracing the center line of the room. Michelle giggled and as she followed the Captain's gaze.

"I was briefed on your friend, "the Captain's voice took on a gentle tone, her eyes remained fixed on the door, "she'll come around." She spoke with a certainty that surprised Michelle but felt strangely comforting. "And you will too, in time." She added now shifting her steady gaze to meet Michelle in the eyes. The Captain's easy smile was infectious as she extended the second beer in Michelle's direction.

"You know." Michelle both thought and spoke without hesitation, taking the offered beer.

"Yes." The Captain's voice was so soft, like a mother who's advice is coming from tragically shared experience. "It's not easy to talk about. And it never will be." Subtle shifts in posture and eye contact gave Michelle the impression that the Captain was talking about both herself and Michelle.

"I can't.." Michelle began, her voice wavering.

"You don't have to, "the Captain quickly interjected, "now is a time for me to release and you to listen." The Captain seemed to be looking at some point on the ceiling, but her gaze became unfocused. As she began her voice had a strange pitch, like absolution, that Michelle suddenly longed to feel herself. "It was a routine raid into Capellan space. I was just a lieutenant in charge of the bays. We dropped in almost un-harassed, the 'Mech jocks deployed and the PBI's were sent to preoccupy the locals. We had just gotten word that the mission was a success and the ground huggers were on their way back, so we relaxed. Cracked a couple and lounged around the bay waiting. No one told us, hell no one knew as far as I know, that a squad of {Naughty} Death Commandos were training on planet. Never saw them coming, just a spritz of something in my face, then I wake up in my skivvies in a holding cell."

The Captain took a long pull from the beer and shuttered. Michelle didn't think it was the taste of the beer, although it was bad enough to do it. "Those {Naughty} Cappie interrogators are good at what they do. Had me watch them put the others through their paces, seeing as I was the senior person they had nabbed. Two died, lucky {Naughties}. They saved the best for last. When my number was up they poured on the steam. Didn't stop, even after they had me broke. I was begging for them to finish it when our boys finally tracked us down. I was so far gone I took no satisfaction when I saw our commandos start on them slow with their own tools."

Michelle took a strong pull on her bottle, as the Captain drained most of her's in a second swig. "But, " Said the Captain after a pause, she drew a deep breath and continued, "I got better, exterior wounds healed, and slowly so did the interior ones. First thing to do is forgive yourself. It wasn't your fault. Revenge won't change what happened, and anger won't help get back what was lost."

The Captain finished her beer and swung herself into a standing position. Turning to Michelle she added, "you and your friend will get better. I'm getting all of us out of here, I promise."

The overhead lights flickered again, but this time remained lit. The Captain's tone returned to the strong, dark humored Captain, as she added while leaving "Just remember, never trust those DAMNED engineers!"

With that Michelle was alone again, but now, for the first time, she genuinely felt like her ordeal was over and things might be ok, in time.

**Desolate Plains, Astrokaszy**

**Wastelands****  
****Periphery ****  
****8 June 3059**

**02:00:00 localtime**

A red incoming communication indicator flared to life on the display seamlessly imbedded in the flawless black desk. The low lights reflected off it's high polished surface. The room's single occupant reached casually out and touched the indicator's icon. A single chirp emitted, breaking the oppressive silence in the massive state room.

"Speak." An order, a command. Uttered in the deepest bass. The officer standing at the comm. console on the bridge did his best not to wince like the others around him did.

"All Unit commanders have reported in, Sir." No response, no request to elaborate. As usual. Standing protocol need not be repeated. "All Units are in the Astrokaszy City vicinity and have completed their sweep of the area. There were heavy death tolls in the areas caught in the initial aerial bombardment, but there is a sizable portion of the population unaccounted for. Alpha Commander Berg has ordered a thorough search of the surrounding area for signs of underground bunkers…."

A loud bang echoed through the bulkheads themselves as a massive fist struck the pristine desk. "DAMMIT!" The voice boomed so loudly, filled with such malice that even the officer could not help but jump. "THAT FOOL! After learning what happened to St. Ivan's, and with our initial strike on them, they will have fled to someplace safe, out of any of the cities! They are heading for the mountains! Even that dense…" The voice trailed off. When it returned the tone had changed, instead of the awe inspiring boom, came a calm clear menace spoken in a near whisper, "Order all Units to proceed to the mountains. Plot all probable mountain passes based on a slow moving civilian population given the time between initial aerial bombardment and now."

"YES SIR!" The officer snapped coming to attention, despite the voice only method of communication. He half turned to execute the order, having assumed that his superior had signed off, when the voice returned from the speaker, in a tone so cold the hairs on the back of the officer's neck stood on end.

"Oh, and inform Sub Commander Talya that she is now in charge of the First. Commander Harris of the Second is now the Alpha Commander."

"Ahh, yes Sir," The officer began uncertainly, "And what shall I tell Commander Berg?"

"I have already _**dismissed**_ the Alpha Commander. Inform **all** the Commanders, I will not accept failure _**again**_!"


	11. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

**Twin Pikes Pass, Veiled Mountain Range, Astrokaszy****  
****Periphery ****  
****8 June 3059**

**07:00:00 localtime**

"CONFIRM! ALL POINTS CONTACT! SCRAMBLE, REPEAT ALL UNITS SCRAMBLE!"

Allen yanked hard on his control stick and broke left around the nearest boulder at a full run as azure beams burned through the darkness of early morning and the howling storm to pass all around his Battlemaster.

_Geezuss! We finally made it up that miserable ski slope only to walk out of some kind of Y bend and right into their lines! Hell we were completely intermixed before any one actually figured out what happened, thanks to this {Naughty} storm! At least this plateau is wide enough to maneuver with some good cover _Allen swung wide around the next boulder before circling back to come to bear on that Warhammer he found himself walking next to just moments before.

"All units this is Leader, convoy and honor guard break away as soon as possible. Mechwarriors, let's hold them back people!"

"Acknowledged, " Jess responded first followed by the others. Allen didn't need to repeat the standing orders, but it seems someone will always forget what to do when the {Naughty} hits the fan. By the plan Allen had detailed prior to departure a SCRAMBLE order meant "things just went to pot now everyone for themselves". Convoy personnel along with Ryan's people and select 'Mechs who would not fair well in a stand up fight were to scatter, in as organized fashion as possible, and break for the nearest exit. The 'Mechs in the best shape were to engage at will and hold back any of the attackers until the convoy was away, then scatter themselves. Rendezvous point was the Antelope.

…

Jess backed away remarkably slowly from the advancing Stalker working the 85 ton assault 'Mech's armor over with her two Medium Pulse Lasers and remaining PPC. Armor ran away in streams from the Stalker's left and center torso under the touch of the lasers while the man made lightning from the PPC savaged the right torso armor, causing additional static energy from the storm to arc all across the right side before lancing to the ground.

The mighty 'Mech weathered the assault in stride, the damage thus far superficial. The Stalker pilot opened up his response with both six pack flights of short range missiles only to have them all torn off course by the incredible force of the raging storm, scattering the warheads harmlessly amidst the boulders off to her Marauder's left. Apparently learning quickly from this failed course of action, the Stalker followed up with twin blasts from the right and left side Large Lasers carving deep gauges on the Marauder's matching torso, harassing the already weakened armor on either side.

_DAMMIT!_ Jess though bitterly as the wire frame Marauder on her HUD flashed from yellow to orange on the left side and red on the right. _Time to go!_ Speed was one of Jess' advantages, and now was the time to use it! She cut loose with her lasers and PPC again and was rewarded by scoring a concentrated strike against the Stalker's right side. The sudden loss of over 3 tons of armor caused the assault 'Mech to lurch right momentarily as the pilot attempted to compensate.

Jamming her control stick hard to the right she opened up her Marauder to full throttle, breaking for the cover of the boulder to her immediate right. More laser fire lit up the space she had just occupied a moment before. Once obscured by the boulder, Jess slammed down on both foot pedals igniting her Marauder MAD-5D variant's jump jets. Unlike the standard MAD-5D Jess had opted to retain and upgrade the dorsal autocannon, but added a CASE system to the ammo bin to prevent excessive damage if the bin was breached. She also ignored the streak missile system and instead added an Anti-missile system. The remaining space was used to increase the armor all around.

The 75 ton war machine launched into a low arch over the boulder, performing a 180 degree turn mid-flight to come down facing the weaker rear armor of the Stalker who was still tracking forward around the 15 meter boulder.

_At times I love this storm_ Jess thought wickedly as she took careful aim at the 'Mech's rear right torso and gently caressed the firing stubs. The concentrated heat of twin pulsating suns melted expanding circles in armor like a blowtorch flame through butter. Before the two lasers could finish their exploration of the rapidly retreating metal, man made lightning simply smashed aside the remaining protection and began chewing at the Stalker's delicate inners. As before, static from the surrounding atmosphere added to the destruction dancing across the Stalker's hide before following the PPC arc deep into the bowls of the war machine.

Sudden heat spikes spoke of lost heat sinks as the Stalker pilot swung the zeppelin like nose of his 'Mech to the right, attempting to use the loss of armor and natural lurch to his advantage. He almost cleared the outcropping of the boulder hemming him in on the right, but not quite. With a screech of metal tearing that was almost audible over the raging storm the mighty Stalker ground to a wrenching halt, nose first into the immovable rock.

Jess actually winced at the grinding the Stalker took. However with the assault 'Mech now standing still, broad side to her own Marauder exposing the already damaged right torso and the, as of yet, undamaged right arm, Jess took full advantage of the situation. Taking careful aim again she targeted the right shoulder and depressed the firing studs again. The armor held for a moment, then sagged and ran away down the 'Mech's side before the concentrated fire completely separated the appendage, along with it's deadly 20 flight Long Range Missile system and storage. Nature again betrayed the Stalker pilot as the storm's static after-discharge exploited both openings in the 'Mech and reached deep into the delicate innards. The 'Mech shuddered as insulated control circuits were exposed to mega-joules of rampant electricity.

Somewhere deep in the right torso a lick of electrical talons touched the bin of Short Range Missiles causing premature detonation. The result was a rapid series of cascading explosions that further extracted a terrible toll on the surrounding equipment. The engine shielding took heavy damage in the expanding fireball as the concussion wave threw the Gyroscope completely out of alignment. Imbedded back and below the pilot's command chair a nondescript black box added this latest damage to the running total of overall devastation being visited upon the machine it was tasked with monitoring. In less time than it took for the concussion wave, which was moving at a mere speed of sound, to reach it the self detonation device coldly calculated that the 'Mech had exceeded the acceptable-loss tolerance levels defined during it's setup and, at the speed of light, executed it's preprogrammed automatic response.

Jess watched in disbelief as what should have been a recoverable situation for the Stalker pilot ended in a brilliant flash as the Stalker collapsed. Explosives located at all the assault 'Mech's hard points detonated as one, creating a useless pile of metal fragments where once had stood a might war machine. However the luxury of contemplation was not to be as a Rifleman swung around the other side of the Stalker's final resting place to bear down on Jess. Before Jess could fully register this new arrival, depleted uranium slugs stitched an X pattern across her Marauder's whole upper torso blowing clean wholes with each slug that struck the right side, but not penetrating further.

Jess depressed her firing studs without a lock, but nothing happened! _What the?_ She glanced at her HUD indicators only to discover that her weapons had not yet recycled. _Damn! _ The Rifleman had her dead to rights, weapons obviously trained on her cockpit. Jess closed her eyes, rapidly squeezing her firing studs praying to get a shot off to prevent the inevitable.

With her eyes closed she never saw the Gauss slug that passed just a half a meter over her Marauder's right shoulder. Had the autocannon still been there the slug would have carried it clean off. Of course at that proximity a Gauss slug sounds like a freight train passing through, even in a storm such as the one outside. At the sound of pounding rush, Jess opened her eyes just to see the slug strike low on the Rifleman's cockpit. The slug pushed aside the armor as though it were whipped cream, then proceeded to pass completely through the 'Mech, carrying away the lower half of the cockpit, most of the control systems and the lower half of the pilot, before proceeding out through the back of the 'Mech spewing vital parts and human remains into the storm. The mortally wounded Rifleman fell backward, disappearing into the storm.

"Hope you don't mind, " Wendy's voice broke in loud and strong due to the proximity of the two 'Mechs. "I admired your work with that Stalker, but I hate to be left out of all the fun." She added. Jess could almost picture the broad smile on Wendy's face from the tone in her voice.

"Oh, fine! I had him just where he wanted me, but if you insist." She smiled at the comforting Atlas drawn on the far right side of her compressed 360 degree display. Before they could continue their happy banner however, reality checked in again. Movement on the other side of Jess' display brought her attention back to the boulder she had so easily leapt over. Comfort turned to icy panic as Jessica's world seemed to shift into slow motion. Like a childhood nightmare a second Atlas stepped clear of the rock and turned to confront her Marauder. Jessica had already begun turning her 'Mech to meet this new menace, but the sinking feeling of a child with a slingshot about to get crushed by a tank threatened to overwhelm her.

"Get behind me," Wendy's voice held a strange calmness, but filled with steel. Jessica didn't need to be told twice, she mashed down hard on her foot pedals vaulting her 75 ton 'Mech once again into the air on a low trajectory to pass backward over Wendy's Atlas.

…

"This miserable storm! If it wasn't for the cursed weather on this Blake forsaken dust ball we'd have been to the Antelope and back twice an hour since … OW {Naughty}, can't you keep this thing from smashing about, that's delicate equipment your carrying." The VTOL pilot sitting behind the sand crawler's driver jerked his thumb out the back window toward the two VTOLs strapped to the crawler's deck, then cursed again as another lurch cracked his head off the roof. The second pilot who had been nodding in agreement broke into a supporting tirade as soon as his partner gave him the opportunity.

_I'll give you delicate equipment_ John Green, the crawler driver, thought bitterly. _Don't these VTOL pilots ever shut up?_ A side long glace at his partner in the passenger seat, Chris Mills, told him they were both thinking along the same lines.

"I can't see a damned thing in this soup, "Chris began trying to change the subject. He leaned forward to peer up into the blackness of the storm and loudly talked over the continuously complaining pilots, "are we headed the right way?"

Before John could respond the first pilot, Jeff was his name, jumped in," Of course not! You ground pounders couldn't find your way around a DropShip lounge." The pilots shared a laugh at the soldier's expense. The men in the front seat just glared out into the endless swarm of sand until the aerospace wannabees finished.

"Right, " John started with a sly smile at his partner, " Maybe you boys would like to get out and walk in front of us, so you could guide us stupid PBIs."

The pilots almost responded, but the noticeable way Chris shifted his submachine gun seemed to get the message across. John opened his mouth to continue when the shadow of another huge boulder loomed in front of them forcing him to swerve hard to the left.

"Damn, we got to get off this plateau, " John began loudly so Chris could hear him over the curses coming from the back seat, "I haven't gotten any contact from one of our boys since the Cap'n gave the scramble order. Never did see the enemy for that matter. I hope this isn't another fur ball like the mess with the survivors."

As if to answer the rhetorical question, shrapnel of all size and shape began raining down on the crawler. John slammed on the breaks. Amidst shouts and curses the ping of metal bouncing on metal joined a chorus of hard bangs as heavy pieces of metal dented and pocketed the roof and hood of the crawler. Something struck the bullet proof glass of the windshield on the passenger side, leaving a long gouge and all aboard in stunned silence. Something, different, struck the windshield and landed on the hood.

"What the {Naughty} was that?" Chris said as everyone leaned forward to get a better look at whatever had been raining down on them.

"Is that a… boot?" John asked squinting at the object on the hood. Before anyone could confirm, deny or debate his question another shadow loomed ominously out of the storm from above. The 20 ton sand crawler bounced clear off the ground as the 60 ton carcass of a Rifleman slammed uncontrolled into the ground, it's signature radar array creating a metal wall just 4 meters from the front of the crawler.

"Missed us!" Chris announced happily to the other shock white faces in the cab.

"Isn't that.. a Rifleman?" John had a feeling rising up in his stomach that threatened to overshadow the spinning left there by the near miss.

"Yes, " the passenger side pilot began with a tone of superiority, "Yes, that is a Rifleman, good eye, for a grunt."

John ignored the moron as the pieces fell into place, "We don't have any Rifleman 'Mechs in our unit. WAIT! Didn't Sergeant say those things were rigged to.."

Everyone in the cab completed the sentence as one, having followed John's line of thinking to it's logical conclusion.

"EXPLODE!"

Shouts and cursing rattled the windows as John rammed the crawler into reverse and wedged the accelerator against the floor.

No one has ever accused a sand crawler of being a fast vehicle, or even a tolerable means of transportation. That was when the things were moving forward. In reverse, well… Despite the lack of gut wrenching speed, in the raging sand storm it took less than 4 seconds for the Rifleman to be completely obscured. Later telling of the story told how John made the thing fly.

…

No one knows better than an Atlas pilot how deadly the Atlas can be. The two mighty titans stood across the narrow space from each other, unmoving. Each warrior measuring each other like gunslingers of ancient earth. Unlike those legends of old these immobile foes were quite busy, enhanced sensors probing, searching, and sizing every facet of their adversary.

In a flurry of motion the standoff ended. Arms raised, torsos twisted, weapons came to bear. Laser fire burst through the darkness creating a deadly light show, a Gauss slug passed a mere meter from a stream of depleted uranium autocannon fire speeding toward the opposite ends of the confined space. Wendy's opponent deftly rotated his 'Mech's upper torso left causing the shot to skim across the enemy Atlas' chest before deflecting off the not quite retracted left arm, shattering armor, and disappearing deeper into the storms embrace. The enemy slugs missed entirely, as Wendy had also chosen to rotate left, but managed a quick side step as well. The enemy Atlas bent forward slightly in a mock bow, before aligning it's feet and starting a slow clockwise circle. Wendy followed suit, maintaining her distance by taking her opponents lead in the tight clockwise dance.

Beads of sweat formed on Wendy's brow as the temperature of the Atlas started to rise. In the searing heat of the cursed sand storm any action taken by a Mechwarrior caused the 'Mechs' cooling systems to struggle. Atlas' have known issues with heat, and even with the newer double heat sinks, Wendy had to be extra careful not to let the heat levels sneak up into the red.

_Ok boy, you want to dance? Let's dance!_

Wendy tested the other's right side armor with her Extended Range Large Laser, while her dance partner stitched a line from right hip to left shoulder with his deadly 20 Millimeter autocannon. The mighty 'Mech shuttered under the assault. Wendy fought through the wave of neuro-feedback as the heavy rounds impacted higher on the chest and shoulder. Her Atlas weathered the storm with little more than a shrug and gave what it got by melting a perfect circle in the right side chest of her opponent. Just over two tons of armor ran down the front of the enemy, mimicking blood from a superficial wound. Symbols sprung to life on the HUD wire frame diagram that depicted her Atlas. There were no breaches, and all chest armor still checked in green.

_That's enough of that!_ Wendy thought viciously.

Wendy lobbed another Gauss slug at her tormentor, this time the other pilot was not as quick, catching the round in the left torso. Armor shattered under the tremendous force of the heavy slug, breaking free in splinters and scattered into the storm. Her opponent responded immediately with four Medium Pulse Lasers. Testimonial to the pilot's skill, he managed to keep the weapons trained on the twisting and running target Wendy was presenting him with. The pulse lasers burned deep lines all across the upper torso and right arm.

_Damn! This guy is good!_ Wendy kept moving and twisting to keep her opponent in her sights, but refrained from taking another shot to let her heat levels come down a bit. Her opponent had stopped moving and was tracking her by rotating his upper torso. _Let our heat get out of control did we? Now how can I use that? _Wendy scanned the opponent's 'Mech, _his heat isn't that high, looks like he's got some extra heats sinks over there, smart. He can still take another shot at me if I give him a chance._ Looking up from the scan report she tried to take in the entire scene.

"Ahh HA! Got ya!" Wendy exclaimed aloud. She tore at the controls, causing her 'Mech to slide to a halt while twisting left to reverse her previous course, then jammed her throttle open. 20 millimeter shells cut through the space where she might have been. The enemy pilot appeared to recover quickly and stitched a line in the boulder nearly catching up with the suddenly reversed Atlas before the rounds expended. A Medium Laser lanced out to strike high on the left shoulder, eating away more of the protective armor. Wendy held off just a little longer on her response.

_Steady_ She thought as the laser hit caused temperatures to spike. _Steady_, The enemy Atlas began to reverse course to maintain distance. _Perfect_, _if your determined to make it easier, then just a little more…_

Wendy swung her torso left and tracked low, to the trained eye, too low. A Large Laser shot out on a low trajectory passing between the moving legs, missing the enemy Atlas entirely. The enemy pilot stopped cold to take advantage of the missed shot, swung his upper torso inline with Wendy and opened up with the autocannon again. Unnoticed by the enemy pilot, just 4 meters behind him, armor slagged and ran away unchallenged. Quickly penetrating the external armor the large laser ate further into the Stalker's right arm. Detached from the Stalker at the time of self-destruct the appendage had remained lying unnoticed since Jess had surgically removed it. The fully loaded Long Range missile storage bin held for a fraction of a second then allowed the beam to pass. In the time it took for two depleted uranium slugs to leap from the barrel of the enemy autocannon, the missiles cooked off. The resulting explosion, assisted by the open leg stance of the 'Mech, shoved the enemy Atlas forward toward the ground. Autocannon fire turning up geysers of sand to trace a perfect line to the spot where the Atlas would land.

"My point!" Wendy remarked sweetly to the image of the prone Atlas. Adjusting her controls she slowed and turned to exploit her new advantage.

…

Lightening flashed close by, illuminating the cockpit of the Warhammer IIC. Yanskoff opened up with the 'Mech's energy weapon compliment mauling the enemy Orion, venting his rage over the events of the last couple of days. The smaller machine staggered under the withering assault and tried to break for the cover of a near by boulder, it's right arm hanging by a single thread of myomers and walking with a sever limp. Yanskoff tracked the enemy maneuver with ease while marveling at his new war machine.

_By the gods, the power! These Clans have got some equipment! This thing would have taken a third of my old force to bring down, and this isn't even one of their Omni rigs! How did they ever stop whole armies of these!_

A solid tone indicated a lock on the retreating Orion, bringing Yanskoff out of his revere. Checking his heat levels he smiled wickedly at discovering that the heat quickly dropped back to the green. He lazily massaged the firing stubs unleashing a torrent of high energy death upon his already wounded adversary. The right arm severed and fell free fractions of a second before armor boiled and ran away in rivers down the right side. The enemy twisted to bring weapons to bear on his tormentor, but man made lightening already penetrated the right side chewing hungrily at the delicate innards. As always in this static intensified storm, lightening arched and added nature's fury to the artificial ravaging. Yanskoff found it easy, in his new high tech wonder, to move and maintain his angle of fire. Just as the last of his punishment was delivered, Yanskoff was rewarded by a flash and witnessed the collapse of the Orion as it's self destruct unit factored in the probability of survival after the engine shielding breach, which Yanskoff himself had been watching develop with satisfaction.

"NOW YE'LL LEARN THE PROPER FEAR OF ME!" Yanskoff shouted aloud at the storm, head swimming with mixed feelings of power and euphoria. He scanned the area for his next victim. Movement drew his attention left in time to witness an old Warhammer backing into view from around yet another boulder. PPC fire lanced from behind the massive rock, striking the right shoulder mounted Short Range Missile launchers, dangerously close to the cockpit. The weapon twisted and caved in on itself as the whole assemble melted. The Warhammer returned fire with both it's PPCs but continued to back away at it's best possible speed. Yanskoff turned slowly, holding off on engaging to see who was so expertly driving back the 75 war machine. The Warhammer pilot must have detected Yanskoff, because he shifted his backward direction to bring him away from Yanskoff and force his adversary to step between himself and the 85 ton Clan monster. The Battlemaster of Allen Martius stepped clear of the boulder, ignoring Yanskoff and pressing the Warhammer further. In doing so he exposed his rear to Yanskoff, whose devious mind kicked into overtime.

_Perhaps it's time for a change in leadership_ Yanskoff's thought bringing an evil smile to his lips. _This machine could bring him down in a single volley from behind! Whose to know the truth in this storm?_

As if following his line of thought the Battlemaster performed an Alpha strike against the heavy Warhammer, blasting away armor, limps and weapons in a frightening display of power. The Warhammer stumbled as the pilot fought to keep the machine up and fighting, despite the loss of both arms and tons of precious armor. The display took the edge off of Yanskoff's euphoria as the realization came to him that he would have to deliver the killing blow in one volley or face the Battlemaster which was a true challenger for his own assault 'Mech. Even from back-on the Battlemaster could instantly begin to deliver retribution for his treachery.

_Besides that damned Praska seems to be watching everything! As impressive as this thing is, she won't stand up to the DropShip guns, to say nothing of the JumpShip. And I am definitely ready to get off this miserable rock! Patience! Opportunities present themselves all the time, better to get out of here first. The kid will get me out of here; he proved he doesn't have the stomach for real decisions when he let the Clanner go._

Yanskoff turned his 'Mech right and opened up his throttle to start hunting again, _I may not deliver the lesion you need in the ways of the Universe today, but I'll be damned if I'm going to wade in where someone else might do the job for me!_

…

Ryan bounced in his seat in the back of the mobile command center as the vehicle dropped over a slight ridge, his seat belt keeping him from flying free of his perch but bit hard into his waist line.

_Damn! That's going to leave a mark_, Ryan thought viciously as he keyed up another sequence of telemetry.

Concussion waves rocked the vehicle from multiple missiles that tore at the ground where the truck was just a moment before. The driver was working feverishly to avoid the 60 ton Champion that was stalking them. The high pitched whine of the twin mini guns penetrated the hull as both weapons delivered 4000 armor piercing rounds per minute in an attempt to ward off the relentless 'Mech warrior. Driver, navigator and gunners shouted to each other over the din to coordinate the survival effort.

Ryan ignored their personal danger and continued to issue commands into the comm. in a vain attempt to bring order to the chaos of the SCATTER order. Pressing his headset to his ears Ryan strained to better hear the overall developments going on outside. He leaned in close, trying to take in every detail afforded him from the myriad of displays that gave him the vital information necessary to help the Privateers survive.

"DAMMIT ZULU FOUR! BREAK LEFT! The twin pikes are 500 meters due North!" he said pointing at his terrain display to the place where two thirty meter tall rock columns marked the next trail, and escape from the confining plateau, despite the fact that Zulu Four couldn't see the map or him pointing. "Zulu two and three, can you read?"

No response from the radio, just another violent shakeup as the center's tormentor finally managed to connect with his autocannon. All sound inside the center drowned out as missiles leapt clear of their launchers in response. Spotting another unit in close proximity, Ryan open up his mic again.

"Reverend, this is Mongoose, respond!"

"Roger Mongoose, go ahead."

"We've got a problem here, can you come right to Two-Three-Zero and assist?"

"Roger Mongoose! Blessed are they that ask for help, for the Lord shall deliver them!"

Almost immediately the command center shook again, this time as arced talons of electrical discharge spun off in all directions from the straight course of man made lightening, cascading over the truck as two azure beams passed overhead. Ryan was thrown right in his chair when the driver broke left to avoid getting caught in the cross fire of the two mighty war machines. The Reverend's Warhammer showing, green on Ryan's display, appeared to rotate as the truck turned, then the two icons, red and green, began to accelerate away from the center of the radar.

_DAMMIT! I should have sent the Ghosts ahead when we were forced to move single file up that slope! With Allen and Jess fully engaged I've got to do something to get the convoy back together and make a safe exit path out of here, in a hurry!_

The rotating display to Ryan's left caught his attention as it cycled through various feeds from the unit's 'Mechs. Ryan stopped the cycling and move back to the previous display, a feed from the recently captured Warhammer IIC. Ryan watched as Yanskoff's last attack caused the Orion to self destruct, and studied the way the explosives performed their task, making mental note of how the explosion shaped. He reached for the control to begin the cycling again, when the same exchange that Yanskoff was just now seeing also peeked his interest. He continued his rapid fire commands while devoting as much of his attention to the developing situation as possible.

_At least Allen is still alive!_ He thought with a wave of relief. _Something is wrong_! he stopped all other activities and brought up all of the displays in Yanskoff's 'Mech. Ryan scanned all around at the virtual cockpit his displays now formed in front of him. _What are you thinking, old man? Why aren't you angling to take a shot at that Warhammer?_ Ryan watched intently as the IIC simply stood, watching the battle unfold. _Go ahead, old pirate! Just twitch! Allen's orders were watch, but don't act unless the old {Naughty} fires. If he does, however… The kid isn't as stupid as he acts. At least Ron managed to carry off the bit about removing the explosives in a believable fashion! Come-on make your move, and I'll give you a close up replay of what that Orion pilot was seeing! _A brilliant flash threatened to reset the displays as Allen performed an Alpha strike against the enemy 'Mech. The IIC shifted, as though something had changed. Then, slowly, the IIC turned and moved off into the storm. _Heh, looks like Allen managed to clear the old boy's thinking up without me. But… orders or no, that old fox is too dangerous to keep around for much longer!_

Ryan waited just another two seconds, to ensure that Yanskoff didn't have a change of heart, then went back to issuing orders.

"Ghosts Six, Seven and Eight, Respond!"

After each had signaled, "You three need to round up the transports and herd these Nova Cats toward those pikes. We need to get these people up into the path out of here! Ghosts Nine and Ten, head to the pikes now! I want that whole area mined for maximum demolition."

A round of "Affirmative," issued from the comm. A green icon on the display flashed and winked out, _Damn! We lost one of the transports!_

"Dingo, turn that rust bucket around dammit! Head 40 meters on a course of One-Zero-Three and protect the rest of the vehicles over there!"

"No problem mate!" Even the battle speech units couldn't remove that Australian accent, "I'm right on it, by the way, have you seen _Precious_? I wouldn't want to go scaring her!"

Ryan shook his head and chuckled, but didn't respond. The sounds of laughter rattling around in the closed in Locust cockpit didn't seem to require fuel.

…

"Dingo, turn that rust bucket around dammit! Head 40 meters on a course of One-Zero-Three and protect the rest of the vehicles over there!"

"No problem mate!" A broad smile worked it's way across Dingo's face, "I'm right on it, by the way, have you seen _Precious_? I wouldn't want to go scaring her!"

Unable to contain himself any longer Dingo dissolved into fits of laughter. Despite shaking from the gut busting laughter, Dingo did manage to get the scout 'Mech into motion. Wiping the tears from his eyes he scanned the intermittently fading displays across the Locust's command console. Noticing a green blip appearing and disappearing on his scanner display he keyed his mic.

"Ghul? How's my girl treating you?"

"Dingo! I hit something during the scatter, most of my displays are off-line! I've been trying to follow the loudest comm. signals to find someone but…"

"Ahh, sorry about that," Dingo began crestfallen as he started to realize the extent of his own thoughtlessness, "I assumed my Shadow Hawk was pretty easy to work, well, you know, with all the upgrades and all… Anyway, right console middle button three rows down from the environmentals display."

_Damned Stupid of me_! Dingo chided himself while he waited for the response, _I've got to get my head back into the game! The girl could have gotten killed without ever seeing it coming!_

"Ok, hang on… Ahh… All the right hand displays are blank, which one is the environmentals?"

Dingo paced the Locust over to where Heather Burke, the young former pilot Locust pilot, stood idle in his arm-less Shadow Hawk. Swirling sand hid the 55 ton 'Mech from view even at less than 10 meters, but his intermittent HUD did manage to paint a shaky wire-frame of the 'Hawk on his forward display.

"All the displays are off-line?" Dingo asked as much to himself as to Heather. "Oh! She's in stealth mode!" Dingo exclaimed as he realized what had happened, "Just say **enlightenment**."

"Enlightenment?" Heather asked, then let out a short cry as the Shadow Hawk sprung back to normal operation mode.

Dingo chuckled as he turned the Locust back to the original course Mongoose had given him, "Follow me lass, we've got some PBIs to protect and I need your eyes and ears. By the way, the phrase that triggered that was **let's see the {Naughty}ards catch me now**."

"Oh… Ok" Came the sheepish reply as Dingo erupted into fits of laughter again.

…

Jessica landed 30 meters back from Wendy's Atlas and watched as the two mighty war machines exchanged their opening shots. The sight of two of those monsters facing off presented a sobering picture. Yanking hard on her control stick Jessica swung her Marauder left around a boulder attempting to get into a support position.

_She's good, but we need to get this encounter over with, and fast!_ Jess had just completed the thought when the threat alarm sounded fractions of a second before a heavy stream of autocannon fire raked the whole upper torso of her war machine adding to the damage left over from the Rifleman's assault. Jess fought back through the waves of neuro-feedback and tried in vain to maneuver in the confines of the treacherous plateau terrain. The utter darkness outside, the feedback from her neuro-helmet, the endless swirls of sand illuminated only by the eerie green glow of her HUD, and the knowledge of the omni-present boulders on all sides amplified the surge of fear that rose up in Jess' chest and gave her a distinct Claustrophobic sensation.

Fighting back the urge to scream Jess checked her battle computer which quickly provided the disturbing picture of this new situation. An Orion, flanked by a Grasshopper, stepped out into the clear from behind a 25 meter high rock, apparently working in tandem to hunt down their enemies. Jess answered the Orion's unprovoked challenge with a blast from her only operational PPC before triggering her jump jets again. The man made lightening played across the Orion's thick hide, but did little to break the warrior's stride.

Landing high on top of one of the larger boulders gave Jess a superior firing position from which to cover both adversaries. Unfortunately, while the Orion angled for another shot, the enemy Grasshopper matched Jess' maneuver landing on the opposite end of the same boulder. Normally a Marauder pilot wouldn't break into a panicky sweat facing a Grasshopper, however facing a pristine Grasshopper, a 'Mech with a long history as a good close-in fighter, with a Orion snipping at you at every opportunity in a less than fully functional Marauder was enough to do it for Jess. Mashing down hard on her foot pedals, Jess attempted to vault to a safer boulder where she would at least only be facing the Grasshopper. Instead of rising once again on four pillars of thrust, her HUD began flashing **Jump system not ready**.

_Dammit!_ Jess thought bitterly, her warrior instinct taking over and lancing the Grasshopper with twin Medium Pulse lasers as she tried to move as far away from the side with the Orion as possible. More autocannon fire flashed upward deflecting off the boulder and cutting through the space where she had been just a moment before. Meanwhile the Grasshopper pilot returned her favor, and struck the Marauder along the left torso with his Large and Medium laser compliment. Armor slagged and ran away in streams and the Marauder staggered mid-maneuver as Jess lost a full ton and a half on her left side. A quick blast from the PPC encouraged the Grasshopper pilot to keep moving but Jess began willing her jump jets to recycle faster as the enemy pilot performed a flawless jump that put him on a smaller rock directly behind Jess's position.

Jess' spun the Marauder in place, attempting to track the 'Hopper pilot's movements, while performing a crouching maneuver in the process. The difficulty of performing the move while not falling off the boulder was more than rewarded as the 'Hopper's next salvo passed harmlessly over the now crouched Marauder.

Jess fired low, striking the 'Hopper in the right leg with her PPC and two Medium Pulse lasers just as the pilot started the second phase of the standard Grasshopper tactic of fire-and-jump. The combined force of Jess' assault succeeded in throwing off the 'Mech's trajectory severely, altering the newly airborne 'Mech's posture from vertical to horizontal. The pilot was either completely caught by surprise or terribly inexperienced, because he failed to cut the jump jets the second the 'Mech's orientation began to change. As a result the 70 ton 'Mech performed a short series of cartwheels until the war machine finally careened into the side of the boulder eight meters beneath Jess' perch. Mere fractions of a second after the 'Mech crippling collision, even before the wreckage could fall the remaining couple of meters to the ground, the Heavy 'Mech detonated.

Jess almost had time to breathe a sigh of relief and bask in the glory of surviving yet another encounter before a quick series of bright flashes on her right most HUD caught her attention, causing her reality to snap back into focus.

_Damn! The Orion!_ Pitching the Marauder into a tight spin, Jess fought desperately to bring her weapons to bear before the Orion angled for a clear shot and tore her 'Mech to pieces. More flashes lit up the endless darkness of the infernal sand storm as the war machine labored to carry out Jess' commands. The picture that resolved on the HUD was different that the one Jess had been expecting, the Orion was facing and firing in the opposite direction. Twin azure beams struck the Orion side by side in the dead center of the Heavy 'Mechs torso driving the machine back several steps. Jess was not about to let an opportunity like this slip. With the Orion pilot distracted by whom ever was firing from a position Jess couldn't see, Jess was free to take some time and aim carefully. The Orion fired it's deadly autocannon again, only to be driven back once more by double shafts of man made lightening.

_Steady now_ Jess thought, beads of sweat forming on her brow as she carefully sighted the Orion cockpit. Her fingers tensed up on the firing studs but the Orion pilot dodged right before she could fire.

_Dammit! Just hold still for a few seconds_.

The Orion pilot fired again in the direction of the unseen assailant at the same moment Jess unleashed her own weapons compliment. Metal sagged under the Pulse lasers and blasted free under the touch of her PPC. In the space of a single heart beat the cockpit and human pilot were no more. True to the pattern Jess had now witnessed twice before, the Orion simply dissolved in a brilliant flash to become a useless pile of scrap.

"The good Lord works in mysterious ways in deed!" Came the familiar boom of the Privateer's moral fiber. A Warhammer stepped into view from behind yet another large rock.

A wave of relief washed over Jess as she keyed her helmet comm. "Reverend! …" Jess faltered, her next sentence dissolving before properly taking form, and thought quickly, "Stay where you are!" Checking her HUD she noted that the jump system had finally cycled and was signaling readiness. "Come left and proceed straight ahead for 35 meters, then wait for me to signal. Striker just engaged an Atlas before I got caught dancing with these two. I'll hop over to a better vantage point and we'll try and end that conflict quickly."

"Striker squaring off against another Atlas! May the Lord have mercy on the poor SOBs soul! Let's see if there is anything left for us to do. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the…" The Warhammer turned in the direction Jess indicated and proceeded to march to the ambush point as Jess turned her attention to finding a good vantage point.

_Ah ha! It'll take a couple of jumps to get there, but we'll have him!_ Mashing down hard on her foot pedals Privateer's XO was rewarded with the reassuring rush of 75 tons of death delivering war machine rising once again into the darkness to continue the hunt.

…

Wendy wrenched her 'Mech's controls forcing the 100 ton Atlas to slip around yet another boulder while running at flank speed. Her suppressed 360 degree view provided a right to left visual of the laser fire that struck and played across the surface of the boulder she had just avoided.

"Son of a {Naughty}!" Wendy swore aloud.

_I've never seen an Atlas recover into a firing position from frontal prone so fast! _She reflected swinging wide around yet another rock, then a second. Wendy slogged through the sand blasted darkness to find a place to come about and face her opponent again. A sharp left turn had her racing up a narrow crevasse penned in on both sides by an unbroken series of immovable stone.

_Up ahead there! Just 30 meters more and I'll be able to swing around, and if I'm lucky catch this guy marching straight down my guns! IF I'm fast enough!_ With that thought driving her on, Wendy coaxed her lumbering giant up beyond the manufacturer's top speed rating by will power alone, even against the driving storm and shifting sand underneath her 'Mechs massive feet.

_Almost there!_ Wendy's eyes flicked up to check her six. 5 meters from the mouth of crevasse the enemy Atlas began turning into the 50 meter channel.

_Damn there's my boy now. Sometimes I think I should have gone with my gut and installed some rear firing lasers like Allen's Battlemaster has. 2 meters! _

The Atlas cleared the last outcropping and threaded four Medium lasers straight up the stone corridor to carve out deep flowing rivers of precious armor from Wendy's back.

_1 meter! Break left NOW!_ Wendy yanked hard on her controls, willing the 100 ton monster into yet another science defying maneuver. The instant her 'Mech stepped free of the confines of the rock ravine her comm. sprung to life.

"Dingo watch out! An Atlas just popped out 40 meters behind us!"

"Ahh, that's ok Ghul it's only Striker trying to sneak up on us!"

"Negative Dingo! This is Striker, I've got another Atlas on my six, and this guy is an Alpha Tango! Get that bucket of bolts out of here!"

"No can do Striker, " The drop in Dingo's normally jovial tone was audible even through the battle filters, "I've got a herd of Zulus here. Ghul, get behind me and lead those PBIs over to the exit point NOW!"

"But…"

"No discussions, you've only got the LRMs left and they're not going to do a damned thing in this storm. Now execute the order! Striker get your 'Mech into firing position, I'll keep your suitor busy."

"Dingo are you NUTS!" Wendy called into her comm. while attempting to reverse her course with a wide right turn that would give her a firing solution and maneuvering room when the enemy Atlas finally made it out into the open. There was little chance that the 100 ton monster could be brought down in the time it took to traverse a mere 50 meters.

Dingo ignored Striker and the others pleas to his sanity and kicked the scout 'Mech into high gear, racing over the shortest possible distance to the closest point where he could begin firing on the enemy 'Mech. Four medium lasers immediately flashed all around the bird like 'Mech as Dingo danced between the beams meant for a much larger target. His return fire, while lacking in the raw power and techno-dance floor flare, was true to it's mark. Striking low-right on the Atlas' cockpit and slashing toward the upper-left. That show of piloting skill and marksmanship earned Dingo the full attentions of the enemy pilot, who responded with a withering array of autocannon and energy weapons fire, all passing harmlessly through the space where the Locust had been moments before.

To Wendy the scene seemed to shift into a surreal slow motion. _Never a good sign_ She thought wryly. Gravity, the intense storm and ever shifting sand floor of the canyon thwarted her attempts to get her massive war machine back around into a firing position. She watched as the Locust performed a breathtaking dance amidst the deadly lasers, then fire it's puny laser and vanish just prior to the inevitable response, shouting into the comm. for Dingo to get clear the whole while.

Continuing to ignore Wendy's shouts, Dingo waited for the last depleted uranium slug to pass before leaping before the dragon's mouth again. Appearing 35 meters in front of the opening long enough to snap off another burst from his underpowered Medium laser before flitting to safety again. This time he was not so lucky as the enemy pilot connected with a second burst of heavy autocannon fire. In an instant the Locust's left arm vanished in a flurry of debris. The impact spinning the little 'Mech half around forcing Dingo to perform a two-step hop maneuver in order to keep the Locust from going down.

"Well you're right about this guy," Dingo admitted, "he's good. Now just another couple of seconds with this flashlight and I'll have him right where he wants me!" Dingo could be heard chuckling over the comm. at his own joke as he continued, "Feel free to join in anytime Striker. I can't fight all your battles for you." More return fire speared out from the opening cutting through sand swept space once more, the enemy pilot trying in vain to out guess Dingo's next move.

.

Wendy's response would have made an old space sailor gasp, but stopped short as she finally stepped back into the battle. Waiting just a moment for the enemy's attempt to swat Dingo had subsided. Dingo took his cue

"Oh, did I mention? X marks the spot."

Quickly assessing the situation, Wendy allowed herself a tight grin and an extra moment to carefully take aim. Dingo had reversed his earlier shot and carved an X over the whole Atlas' cockpit. However, that wasn't the only thing he'd managed to accomplish. The enemy pilot had been far too focused on crushing the accurate little bug.

"NOW!" Came Jessica's order as her Marauder touched down lightly on the outer canyon wall.

Twin azure beams of man made lightning raced dual Medium Pulse lasers straight up the crevasse to converge with yet another PPC blast and dual Medium Pulse laser grouping descending from above.

As the concentrated fire traversed the short distance at the speed of light another voice began over the open comm. "The heathen hoard will quake before the righteous who wield the hammer of God!" The Reverend's voice boomed with his best feverish sermon pitch.

At the same moment, Wendy loosed her entire energy weapons compliment and lobbed a Gauss slug up the reverse side of the ravine. The canal briefly lit up as the laser and PPC display illuminated the scene. Enemy armor from front and back dissolved under the touch of multiple artificial suns, only to be blasted clear by the PPCs. Where armor opened up, electrical talons born from the storm's intensity followed the path created by the 'Mech weapons to ravage the delicate innards of the mighty war machine. Even Dingo managed to add to the carnage, snipping at the giant once more with the underpowered weapon at his disposal.

All this, however, did not fell the monster. It was the Gauss slug that followed Dingo's advise and found his mark. The already lightly damaged cockpit put up little resistance to the high speed projectile, which smashed man and metal both into an unrecognizable spray of blood soaked debris. Even as the remains toppled backward into the abyss, the insidious black box completed it's task and destroyed all traces of the titan.

With the Atlas' passing the storm seemed to lighten, as though nature's fury was finally appeased by this last sacrifice. Sweat drenched and exhausted, Wendy simply slapped the shut down override and turning, she and the others strode back to rejoin the rest of the unit at the exit point. Not even Dingo could find words to describe the disrespect for the living and dead those devices represented.

…

**Nadir Jump point, Astrokaszy****  
****Periphery ****  
****8 June 3059**

**08:21:20 localtime**

A microburst of energy thrust into existence and sped toward the system's third planet traveling faster than the speed of light, detectable by only the most sophisticated equipment surviving from the Star League era.

**Warrior's Despair region, Veiled Mountain Range, Astrokaszy****  
****Periphery ****  
****8 June 3059**

**08:21:31 localtime**

The displays whirred to life as the auto-receiver detected an incoming response. The sudden sound causing the man dressed as a simple desert trader to startle and look around wildly. He quickly recovered and chided himself for jumping at shadows. This cave was very well concealed from any form of detection. The hard part had been convincing the Astrokaszy City council to commit to the long trek to this safe haven rather than choosing one of the closer ones. Luckily the arrival of survivors from the outlands had tipped the scales in favor of the larger sanctuary, then it had just been a matter of preventing them from breaking up into smaller groups.

The chance encounter with the Merc unit had provided valuable information to include in his report, sent just 14 hours ago.

The message received light flashed on the holy device, and the man gave thanks to Blake for yet another successful deliverance before keying in his access numbers and decrypting the message. The encryption on a message like this one, to a hidden station took several minutes to finally display. When it did the message was short, but caused the man to offer up several more prayers of thanks before clearing the message banks and initiating a shutdown. The man committed the message to memory:

_**Situation understood. The servants of Blake are many, a unit of the chosen is very near. Blake's wrath will illuminate these shadows swiftly.**_

_**Note: Ryan Praska is known to ROM. Gather all info on him and his unit as possible. Be cautious, but vigilant. Observe all.**_

_**Blake smiles upon you.**_

Quietly the desert trader emerged from a shadow bend in the cave passage and slipped once again back into the crowd of survivors, all the while absorbed with the problem of finding these Privateers.

**Twin Pikes Pass, Veiled Mountain Range, Astrokaszy****  
****Periphery ****  
****8 June 3059**

**08:29:14 localtime**

_A little left. No, back some. There!_ Allen unleashed the full arsenal of his BattleMaster, with the exception of the Short Range Missile 6 pack. The enemy Warhammer withered under the assault. Tons of armor melted and ran down in streams, throwing the 'Mech suddenly off balance. Both arms separated from the war machine to go spinning off into the swirling storm, carrying with them the 'Mech's two primary weapons. The Warhammer pilot twisted wildly attempting to break free from the BattleMaster's death grip. In the utter darkness of the electrically charged storm, and struggling to survive Allen's assault, the Warhammer pilot had little opportunity to assess the immediate terrain. Side stepping right the 70 ton 'Mech came down hard on the soft sandstone ridge of the cliff wall which, unknown to the Warhammer pilot, caused pressure cracks to shoot down through the embankment in a spider's web of intersecting weak points. The first indication the enemy pilot had that something was going terribly wrong was the vertigo sensation that passed through his middle ear, feed directly into his brain through the Warhammer's neuro-helmet. His mind raced attempting to process the sensation being forcibly imposed over his own sense of balance. In a fraction of a second his brain came to two conclusions, one a simple fact, the other caused a shock of panic to course through his nervous system. The BattleMech's attitude was rapidly changing, which meant, it was going over the side of the cliff!

Allen had to quickly check his sensors, for the target he had just engaged was simply no longer there. The Warhammer had just vanished, no flash indicating the sinister black box had done it's job, it was just gone! As impressive as an alpha strike from his upgraded BattleMaster is, there is little possibility that a 70 ton 'Mech would simply vaporize. His sensors were not as easily fooled however. Allen watched in stunned silence as the image of a Warhammer, already 10 meters below his position, dropped at an incredible rate. In the slightly heaver than earth standard gravity of Astrokaszy the Warhammer wasted no time in reaching an acceleration rate just over 10.4 meters per second squared. The war machine traversed another 50 meters in just over 2 seconds before reaching the first impact point and beginning an ungainly spin. Despite the awe inspiring sight being painted on his screen, another more pressing matter suddenly came to his attention.

The soft sandstone of the cliff wall was continuing to erode, the Warhammer had triggered a landslide!

_Damn! This whole cliff is about to go!_ Allen though as his threw the Assault 'Mech into reverse. The landslide was gaining when Allen risked a 180 degree spin-turn and threw his 'Mech into a full run. Twisting hard to barely avoid one of the large boulders only to careened off the next Allen got tossed around roughly in his command chair. The sound of metal scrapping off rock was nearly deafening in the confines of the BattleMaster cockpit. Chancing a glance backward he noticed a couple of things.

_OK! Ok! It looks like the erosion has stopped! Hey, is it me or can I see a little better?_ Slowing to a walk, Allen circled back to examine the landslide area.

"Mongoose, this is Leader. Do you read?" At first nothing, but just before he tried again a weak signal came through, and was getting stronger.

"Ro-er, L—der, Mongoose rea-s."

"What's our situation?"

"Not bad, All Tangos are down, we did loose one transport but our people got out ok and all units are making their way to the exit point. Dingo even survived tangling with an Atlas. I'd say it was a {Naughty} miracle."

"I'm not even going to ask why Dingo engaged an Atlas while piloting a Locust. Just save me the battle ROMs."

"Ha. Roger Leader."

"How did Yanskoff and his people fare?"

"Not as good I'm afraid, he lost half his 'Mechs but the old pirate himself, survived. Lost his comm. though. He's starting to remind me of Thomson."

"Right." Allen responded digesting this information. _Ryan doesn't make that reference lightly, I wonder what the story is? I thought I saw Yanskoff briefly during that last encounter. Ryan knows more than he can say over the open comm. _ "We'll talk about it later. Let's just proceed with our original plans."

"Roger." Ryan responded, pleased that Allen seemed to get the gist of his message. "By the way, our guides tell me the storm is about to break. What's your sit-rep?"

"I'm standing on the new edge of the plateau where we came up. My last opponent thought he'd get creative and threw himself over the side." Allen could hear more an more chuckles over the comm. as he began to see more light through his canopy. "I wonder if it was something I…" As the storm lightened, more and more systems began reporting in better detail. First the comm., then the HUD painted the terrain in more exacting detail, finally the sensors. A quick beep of an enemy contact faded in and out, causing Allen to falter in his latest burst of humor. Then it returned, and then another followed. And another. As quickly as the storm began, it died away, bathing the mountainous area in brilliant light from Astrokaszy's sun. While cheers could be heard across the comm. from those who's spirits were lifted by the breaking of the storm, Allen's stomach threatened to drop completely through the cockpit floor.

"CONTACT!" Allen yelled, overriding all other discussions breaking onto the Privateers channel. Standing up from his command chair, Allen leaned forward pressing his helmet up against the canopy to try and make some visual sense of the information his battle computer was feeding him. Even as the landslide continued to cascade down the lower reaches of the mountain, smashing aside everything in it's path, all down the cliff side, as far as the eye could see, hundreds of BattleMechs rose like mythical desert monsters from the sand, breaking free of the covering left by the landslide. "Mongoose are you getting this? Are these reading correct?" Allen almost whispered in reverence to this awesome sight.

"CONFIRM LEADER! Rough count is nearly a complete division!" silence followed the announcement.

"All units break for the exit point! Mongoose, rig that canyon for demolition!" Allen ordered, throwing himself back into the command chair and thrusting his 'Mech into motion.

"Way ahead of you chief! Area is ready for departure."

…

**Desolate Plains, Astrokaszy**

**Wastelands****  
****Periphery ****  
****8 June 3059**

**08:37:21 localtime**

The red incoming communication indicator, imbedded in the flawless surface of the black desk, sprang to life with a simple chime. A heavy set hand reached out leisurely and touched the light, opening the comm.

Without preamble the deep smooth base uttered a single word. "Report."

Standing in the war room of the mighty command DropShip the senior officer stood at attention before the visual comm. knowing that every facet of his physical demeanor and sometimes, he privately mused, his soul, are being measured. All others present attacked their individual tasks with renewed fervor, fearful of being viewed by their leader doing anything that might displease him.

"Three items Sir! The special ground forces combing the remains of St. Ivan City report they have located the artifact." Despite the overwhelming sense of relief the officer and the other members of this battle group felt at hearing this news, the officer betrayed no emotion and did not expect to hear any from their leader. Thus he continued with his report without pause. "Second, the sand storm is breaking and communications with all units has been restored. Third, Alpha commander reports a landslide in the mountainous region where the 'Mech forces are currently deployed in pursuit of some kind of small force. The enemy has been able to destroy the scout company sent in advance of the main column."

The unnatural sound of the unexpected laughter that issued from the comm. caused even the senior officer to jump slightly and forced a cold shiver up his spine.

"So, there is still some fight left in these desert rats. Very well. Let us end this game. Deploy the fighters and inform me when the artifact is aboard." With that the comm. line terminated. The officer obeyed the first half of his new orders instantly. At the press of a button alarms began blaring throughout all of the DropShips of the massive battle fleet.

Flight crews raced to their pre-assigned positions, hurrying to ready the fighter armada for deployment. Flight bay doors immediately began opening while flight controllers started the impossible task of coordinating the launch of over a hundred fighters from the tightly clustered DropShip LZ.

…

**Twin Pikes Pass, Veiled Mountain Range, Astrokaszy****  
****Periphery ****  
****8 June 3059**

**08:30:47 localtime**

In contrast to the utter darkness of the raging sandstorm outside, the interior compartments of the sandcrawling troop-carrier were brightly lit. Scattered over every available surface of this particular compartment were various circuit boards and technical tools. Wires and circuit jumpers crisscrossed the area, some performing their original interconnections while others bridged broken or uncooperative circuits. Of the four people sharing this space with the myriad, nearly random assortment of electronics, three were hurriedly rushing back and fourth between various display consoles and the scattered circuit boards. The fourth, a soldier, simply sat in the corner with his assault rifle leaning against the wall next to him having long ago given up trying to make conversation with the technophiles left in his care. The sound of the crawler's tracks caused a constant background noise to vibrate through the compartment, which seemed to drive the techs crazy providing the soldier with his only source of entertainment since this long trek had begun. The crawler lurched as it passed over yet another obstacle, rather than going around under the battle conditions. The soldier caught his rifle with a simple movement, again, as the techs threw themselves over the delicate equipment attempting to prevent further damage amid shouts of indignation, again.

"These optical processors are communicating way too fast for this equipment," Jennifer Hawkins, the Privateer's assistant chief tech complained from a console along the left wall of the transport. "I'm attempting to synchronize, hold on…I've got it!" The console scrambled as the vehicle pitched. "Dammit! Something severed with that last lurch!"

Ron looked up from his vain spread eagle attempt to keep the equipment from flying free under the erratic motion of the crawler and fixed the soldier with a withering glare, "DAMMIT! Don't those drivers understand? This is **very** delicate! Would it kill them to try and avoid one rock?!"

The soldier fixed Ron with a calm stare and responded simply, "Maybe. Could be it would kill us all."

This simple answer seemed to be enough for Ron, whose expression dropped from indignation to real concern. "Right. Ok, Dillan did you see where the connection broke?"

The young Astrokaszy native looked up from the circuit board he had been focusing on during Ron's tirade, "Yeah, I saw it go, but I think I got it fixed. Jen, is it up now?"

"No… Yes! That got it, thanks! Ok, ok, hang on…" Jennifer seemed to be hypnotized by the fast shifting displays.

_No one could actually be reading anything on those flickering images._ The soldier though to himself as he stood to observe the impossibly fast flashes of information appearing and disappearing on Jennifer's screen.

Ron seemed to be able to read the soldier's mind as he voiced his answer to the soldier's unspoken comment, "Actually, I've seen her read faster. Impressive isn't it?" The soldier gave Ron an incredulous look and was about to respond when Jennifer let out a short cry, snapping everyone around to stare in her direction.

"GOT IT!" She yelled triumphantly. "Ok, I've got 21 codes, hang on… Yes, looks like 3 groupings of 7, each with one sub-grouping of 3 and four individual codes."

"How are you sorting these," asked Ron with genuine interest as he leaned over the console.

"Desert demons! You've already found an underlying algorithm." Dillan breathed reverently, leaning in over the opposite side.

Jennifer beamed up at the other two, "Yup, I'm a long way from cracking it, but, I did find a common thread. It wasn't nearly as hard as I thought. Whoever built these things obviously didn't really believe anyone would ever get the thing open, let alone short circuit their hardwired security without the thing self destructing."

"Ok," Ron started slowly, "so now all we have to do is broadcast one of these groupings on the right frequency destroying the enemy and save the day. So any ideas on which one?"

"Why not just broadcast all of 'em?" Dillan asked naively.

Ron donned the professor look and tone he had taken to assuming when teaching Dillan some new lesson on modern technology. "Because, each series will have 3 codes for the 'Mech we captured, one will probably affect the lance, the company, the battalion, and finally the regiment. Then there are three groupings which probably translates into simply fall apart, blow-up and … well, clear the immediate area of all life for the next 5 thousand years or so."

"Oh," Dillan responded sheepishly.

"Well," Jennifer started again, having turned back to the console while the other's debated, "I've got two of the groups narrowed down as being just a single bit apart."

"So, "Ron jumped in following Jennifer's logic, "Those two groupings are probably the 2a and 2b paths, so if we send the other one then an enemy regiment will simply dissolve!" Ending in an triumphant exclamation Ron looked around wildly for the comm. to radio the Captain as Jen and Dillan nodding their agreement with his conclusion. Ron finally found the comm. under a toolbox, but as soon as he turned it on it sprang to life.

"CONTACT!" Came the Captain's warning shout from the speakers embedded in key locations throughout the compartment. Ron looked over at the other two techs in sudden concern, then over at the soldier who was now at full attention, his assault rifle ready in his hands.

"Mongoose are you getting this? Are these reading correct?" The Captain's voice barely more than an awe inspired whisper.

"CONFIRM LEADER! Rough count is nearly a complete division!" Silence followed the announcement in the crawler compartment as well as over the comm.; a quick glance over at the soldier was all Ron needed to confirm that what was just announced was even worse than he thought it was.

"All units break for the exit point! Mongoose, rig that canyon for demolition!"

"Way ahead of you chief! Area is ready for departure."

"What's a division?" Dillan asked into the silence that followed the short communication.

Ron was about to answer, working his brain furiously to remember the military training he had too often ignored, but their soldier guard responded first.

"Three regiments, generally a mix of 'Mechs and ground forces with possible air support. But from what we've seen so far, it's probably a 'Mech only Division which means roughly 300 plus BattleMechs, unless the storm has broke, then the hundred or so fighters are back. Which means we're all dead."

"Oh, "was all the Dillan could think to say as Jennifer got sick on the floor next to her console.

"Not if I can help it! Captain?!" Ron called into the comm. with a renewed sense of urgency. His call was lost however in the battle chatter. "CAPTAIN!" Ron screamed, attempting to overwhelm the other units attempting to coordinate the retreat.

"Squirrel? What is it, I'm kind of busy." The captain seemed annoyed.

_Probably shouldn't have radioed every 30 minutes asking if he could get the crawler driver to avoid bumps._ Ron thought before responding, "We've got the codes Captain!"

"Leader, Squirrel, my call sign is, wait? What codes?"

"From the device, Jennifer…" Ron began before Allen cut him off.

"Well? Can we use them?"

"Oh, well, yes. All we need to do is broadcast on the right frequency and..."

"Ron, if you can do it then **now** would be a great time!" Allen's voice seemed to surround the entire compartment in urgency.

"Right! Broadcasting now!" Ron absently reached over and tap-selected one of the groupings and hit send simultaneously.

"NO, NOT THAT ONE!" Jennifer screamed.

"What?" The Captain's voice queried from the still open comm. Ron turned white as he realized his mistake. He'd chosen the middle grouping, one of the two longer code sets, which meant…

"HIT THE DIRT!" Ron screamed, and everyone in the compartment dove as one.

…


	12. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

**Twin Pikes Pass, Veiled Mountain Range, Astrokaszy****  
****Periphery ****  
****8 June 3059**

**08:33:12 localtime**

Darkness, permeated with the sensation of rising up through a long tunnel. At times the nothingness seemed to spin. At others, the world was still. In either case, the feeling of going up was omnipresent. Most people have experienced it at sometime or another, but no one in history has ever given it a definition that can be completely verbalized or written. Some attribute it to afterlife and proof of divine existence; others explain it away using biological science. In any case, it's just one of the many things that requires the shared human experience to augment our inadequate communication methods in order to be understood. Literary experts would probably disagree with that assessment, but I hold fast to the belief that for many things in life the only phrase that fits the bill is "those who know, cannot explain; those who don't, cannot understand."

Allen is experiencing one of these moments now. As his mind drifts endlessly up through the darkness, awareness begins to seep into the mix. Gradually at first, simple things ebb into being. His mind begins to sort things out, starting with the basics, like physical orientation. When a person is awakening in an unnatural position this part of mental "start-up" takes a little longer, especially when that position isn't the one last remembered by the conscious mind. When the unconscious mind can't make any sense of the information at hand, it rouses the conscious mind to make a decision. This was the first awareness Allen had during his long drift upward. The answer, although Allen had no idea where the conclusion came from, was "skip it, it'll make more sense later".

More things encroached on his blissful assent. Difficulty breathing, followed by low aching emanating first from far off places that quickly resolved into known areas of the body. Finally, Pain! When Allen's consciousness finally reached the point where he was ready to breach the darkness and emerge once again into the waking world, he felt the sharp pain of his command couch restraints digging into his shoulders, hips, and chest coupled with the dragging of his heavy neuro-helmet on his neck. His head, arms, and legs where dangling from his torso which was being held aloft by the painful restraints. Opening his eyes to make some visual sense of what was happening, brilliant light streaming in from all sides of his canopy and reflected off the sand pressed against the front canopy threatened to sear his retinas out. Allen let out a short cry, and wrenched his eyes shut. Then, slowly, one eye at a time, he opened them again giving each eye time to adjust.

The last thing to come to Allen's slowly growing attention was sound.

"…goose, report!"

"..ansports are through the pikes, VTOLs are staging for EVAC. All 'Mechs are up and moving, but Fox Leader is still out of contact."

"Hello?" Allen asked in a weak voice.

"Striker, any luck?"

"Negative, Fox One, I'm still threading my way over to the last know contact point but the going is slow."

Allen cleared his voice; he knew they were talking about him. "Hello?" he asked again, his voice just a little stronger than it had been the first time.

"Roger Striker. I want all other 'Mechs to get through those Pikes NOW! The avalanche is still working it's way down the mountain side, but I'm not going to take a chance that these guys still won't try and come after us. Striker, you have 5 minutes, then we close the door."

"Roger One."

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Allen came to his senses. Giving his head a strong shake to clear the remaining cobwebs, he mentally chastised himself for not opening his comm. Rotating his jaw he heard the familiar snap-hiss of his mic. activating. "Fox One, this is Leader, report."

Several cheers could be heard in the background as Jessica responded, her voice betraying genuine relief, "Leader, good of you to join us! Everyone seems to be ok, just got tossed around a bit. Seems Squirrel detonated a regiment of the bad guys, but managed not to create a nuclear holocaust. Striker and Dingo were the only ones who managed to keep their 'Mechs upright in the earthquake and landslide that followed. You were the closest to the avalanche site at the time of detonation. What's your situation?"

_Just what I'm trying to figure out_ Allen thought wryly. "Well, I think this little ride is going to leave a couple of marks, but other than that I'm ok. All systems are reporting some damage or another, but nothing too bad. Looks like I just collided with the ground when the festivities began. According to these readings I should be able to get to the exit point in a couple of minutes, but I'll have to weave around. Striker, you should work your way back as well."

"Roger," Wendy responded immediately.

"Roger," Jess added, " we'll be waiting."

"Dammit! Contact! "Ryan's voice cut it, "Sorry Fox Leader, but I've got no good news to give out today. Looks like we've got multiple jump capable 'Mechs along the Eastern ridge. These guys want a piece of us bad!"

"Roger," Allen responded, thinking quickly, "What their ETA?"

"You've got 4 minutes before the first of them reach your position."

"Ok people, rest time is over! Everyone through those pikes. One, if I'm not there in 3 minutes you close the door and clear out!" Allen thought for a second, and cut-in just in time to override Wendy's next communication. "That goes for you too Striker, there'll be no glorious stands today! If I get there late, I'm simply going to punch out and do my best to head to the LZ. Mongoose, I heard you say you've got the birds in the air, I'll leave it up to you to coordinate my EVAC in that event."

Over the sounds of weary voices speaking quickly in grim tones came the official response.

"Roger Leader," Jessica responded her voice filled with the tone of a commander who's task will likely kill one of the team, but will perform the duty. "Just get here!"

…

**Holstave's Dream, Zenith Jump Point, Galchina****  
****Free Worlds League ****  
****8 June 3059**

**32:01:04 localtime**

"Jump in Twenty." Announced the jump Navigator from his console just left of the center line bulkhead that divided the bridge.

Captain Martin Holstave simply responded with a low grunt as he visually scanned as many consoles as he could from his vantage point.

_8:29 Astrokaszy local time_ He noted as his eyes passed over the various time displays indicating the dates and times on various systems of importance to the crew of the _Dream_.

_Good, we'll be on time for once._ He thought wryly, his mind cataloging the last five cargo hauls, each of them late.

_This lack of timeliness is costing me dearly, even at the rates I've been getting for hauling out to the Periphery._ _Perhaps I should have invested my family fortune into becoming an interstellar playboy, instead of this damned tramp __freighter!_ The idea of him wearing one of those feathered getups that were becoming popular amongst the social elite on the inner worlds brought a broad smile to his face and nearly caused him to burst into a hearty laugh. A junior lieutenant glanced his way, and taking the captain's smile as a sign that everything was well in hand he returned the smile and through the captain a cheerful salute.

Martin snapped back to the present and gave the young man a smiling nod before turning his attention back to the task at hand. As was standard protocol the Navigator, Michael Arthur, called out the last ten seconds until the Jump occurred over the ship wide comm.

"Three, Two, One… Mark!"

Martin closed his eyes just before the K-F drive engaged, willing the star ship to make the leap between stars, or rather the **correct** stars. Reality stretched out before Martin until it seemed as if the whole universe lay before him simply waiting for him to drink in its infinite possibilities. Then as quickly as it started, reality snapped back into place leaving Martin with the familiar sense of leading a tiny existence in the grand scope of it all. In reality whole jump happened so quickly that it was near instantaneous, but it always seemed to Martin that it was both infinitely brief and long. On thing was different on this occasion, everything was pitch black when he opened his eyes.

"MISJUMP!" Came a cry of panic from the Captain's right.

"Nav, Report!" Martin barked, a shot of fear running the course of his spine before his mind could catch up with the situation.

"Consoles are dead! Situation unknown!" Michael replied, his voice projecting his own state of alarm. Other voices began shouting, some of the more "level headed" staff truly panicked and Martin could hear them attempting to unbuckle their restraints and ranting on about the curse.

"Silence!" Martin ordered, bringing his bridge crew to a shocked stand still. Martin listened carefully, willing his eyes to adjust to the darkness. One of the crewmen started squawking again in a voice driven to unnaturally high pitch in his state of fear.

"I said SHUT UP!" Martin bellowed. _There! I knew I heard it!_ He thought feeling vindicated, "There," he said aloud, "listen. The station keeping thrusters are firing, and by my count we did **not** long-jump."

"Correct," Michael called, now standing and looking out the forward "window". "That star field looks correct for Astrokaszy." He continued, and no one questioned him. Michael had an unnatural ability for recognizing systems and Jump Points simply by looking at their star fields. "I'd say we came out at the Nadir Point, a little further out than we'd planed is all. Looks like we're in a perfect position to deploy our sails though, the star is that-a-way," he said jerking his thumb toward the stern of the JumpShip.

Martin massaged his eyes with his finger tips feeling twice his actual age, _I don't know what'll kill me first. This bucket of star hopping bolts; or this crew!_ When he had bought the _Dream_ it had been called the _Dusty Star_ which he had promptly renamed _Holstave's Dream_. Had he known anything about space sailors he'd have never changed the name, it is considered extremely bad luck to rename a ship. But by the time he'd found out it was too late. He'd already spent most of his remaining money on registering the ship and advertising.

_Not that it would have mattered,_ Martin thought bitterly, _it is considered even worse, if __**that's**__ possible, to rename a ship twice even if I did change it back to the original name!_ He opened his mouth to address the crew again when the sound of the rusty bridge hatch screeching open caused him to look around just in time to have a high powered flashlight beam burn into his very dilated pupils.

"DAMMIT, point that thing someplace else!" He barked in annoyance.

"Oh, sorry Captain!" a sheepish young mid-shipman's voice squeaked as the light swung away from the captain's face only to extract similar, if decidedly more colorful, curses from other members of the bridge crew.

"Report!" Martin barked, cutting short his bridge crew as they proceeded to unload the tension of a moment before on the poor crewman with the flashlight.

"Oh, Yes Sir, Lieutenant Haroldson wanted me to tell you that the power is out from just forward of the galley to the bow."

"Great, well at least we'll get to eat something hot, " Martin interjected. "Did John say how long it will take to fix?" John Haroldson was his chief engineer and the only thing keeping the _Dream_ from falling to pieces.

"Ahh, no Sir, but he said he's looking into it and will send someone as soon as he has a good estimate. Oh, and he say's that life support is fine, but not circulating forward very well, the K-F drive is fine, and the sails have already begun to deploy."

"Ok, go remind him to hurry it's going to get cold fast in the sections without power. Michael, as much as I respect your instincts, head to engineering and try and confirm our location. Then do your best to make sure we stay in position."

"Yes Sir, " Michael responded, unbuckling his seat restraint and pushing off his console to drift toward the bridge hatch.

"Ok, everyone else, let's clear the forward sections and move everyone that will fit into the galley. Anyone with cabins further back can head there."

"Captain?" the young lieutenant who had saluted him earlier, asked in an uncertain tone.

"Yes? " Martin responded, straining his eyes in the low illumination cast off from the flashlight, which was now shining toward the ceiling, to distinguish the young man's outline from the shadows.

"Shouldn't we all go to engineering? I mean we can all do our jobs from there."

"Have you ever been to engineering son?" Martin asked in a mildly annoyed fatherly tone.

"Ahh, no" the young man responded looking like he must have missed something, because he began looking around at his fellow crew for some hint as to where the captain was heading with this.

"Well, the short answer is, we won't fit. And we'll make it even harder for the engineers to get their job done. Now, let's get moving people! The forward sections are about to get real cold, and I don't want your dying breaths to freeze up this delicate circuitry!" Martin barked, releasing some of his own tension.

…

**Death's crater, Veiled Mountain Range, Astrokaszy****  
****Periphery ****  
****8 June 3059**

**09:01:00 localtime**

The lift doors opened with a hiss and Michelle entered the bridge, with Jennifer leaning heavily on her. No one seemed to have noticed their arrival, focused instead on their tasks in these circumstances. Jennifer had just started showing signs of being aware of her surroundings two hours ago, and Michelle wasn't about to let her out of her sight while there was a chance she might make more progress. Twenty minutes ago, while they were both drinking what these people were passing off as coffee in the lounge, alarms started blaring and a voice announced the rest of the Mercenary unit was inbound "hot", which Michelle quickly discovered meant someone was in close pursuit. Jennifer had started screaming uncontrollably the moment the alarms sounded and it had taken the better part of fifteen minutes to calm her, even though the alarm had only lasted less than a minute.

When Jennifer had shown signs that moving around helped make her feel better, signs that Michelle got the feeling originated from being unable to move about during the turmoil of the last few months, they started wandering around the lounge. Being that this was a military ship and the lounge was not the primary concern of the ships designers, before very long they had wandered out into the hallway.

"Sure are in a hurry, aren't they?" Michelle asked, trying to sound conversational in a desperate attempt to keep Jennifer from drifting back into the fear driven stupor. Despite the situation she couldn't help cringing at the sound of her own voice which was sounding like a badly scripted character from a B, or C, holovid.

"WHAT? Oh, yeah." Jennifer responded dully, her hazy gaze wandering from their surroundings to rest briefly on Michelle before drifting off again. The near total lack of comprehension behind those eyes caused a jolt of panic to shoot through Michelle as the fear that she might have permanently lost her best friend threatened to overwhelm her again.

_NO!_ She chided herself firmly, _I WILL help her and she WILL get better again!_ Despite the conviction in her belief that she could help Jennifer get better, there was a strong nagging doubt in her soul that either of them would ever be the way they were before **HE** destroyed what remained of their childhood innocents and sense of safety.

"Come on, let's walk around." Michelle said finally, carefully avoiding pointing out that they were on a space ship for one of a very few times in their lives. The last space ship, and their first star ship, brought them to into **His** carefully prepared nightmare.

People were running past to their various posts barely acknowledging their presents. Bits of hurried conversations and orders barked over hand held comms. filled in most of the details as the two young women threaded their way around the circumference of the space ship. Quickly side stepping out of the way of a squad of armed security men Michelle found that they had stopped right in front of the lift doors. Seeing that there was little chance of the two of them making it back to the lounge, with Jennifer leaning heavily on Michelle for support, Jennifer pressed the call button intent on returning to her quarters to wait out this latest emergency. Once inside the elevator however, instead of pressing the button to take them down two levels she found herself reaching out and pressing the top button to the bridge.

As the doors slid open the quiet tranquility of the elevator was washed away in the tidal wave of noise and commotion of the Antelope's bridge staff in emergency mode.

"Ok people, let's call 'em out!" Bellowed Captain Olstad, "_Engineering!"_ she called placing so much emphasis on the word that it sounded like she was swearing.

"All systems are up, core is running at 100% and engines are hot!" reported an officer on the far right, looking quite pleased with the announcement.

"We'll see, " responded the Captain fixing the officer with a narrow eyed glare. "Helm!"

"Standing ready for launch as soon as we button-up. Escape solution is plotted. All systems are go!" The middle aged woman sitting at the center console called out without taking her eyes off her displays.

"Right, Radar!" The Captain continued without pause.

"Skies are clear, all bogies are ground bound. Thirty-Five is our latest count."

"Roger, Weapons!"

"All weapons systems are hot, starboard guns are attempting to provide cover for our boys and girls out there. We nailed that one bogie who tried jumping over our lines, the rest have stayed low to the ground since. Terrain is causing a problem, with all these boulders and outcroppings we won't have a clear shot on a 'Mech until they're within 200 meters!"

"Right, see if the missile batteries can provide some saturation strikes on the stragglers."

"Roger, " the weapons officer called back before turning to her console to issue the orders.

The Captain started, now more slowly, "XO, what's our sit-rep?"

"Our 'Mech line is currently holding at 800 meters but they're taking a beating, those local troops are all but wiped out. I don't know how much longer the Captain can hold the line. On the bright side our ground troops have been evacuated via VTOL, ground transport will break the 200 meter perimeter in the next two minutes. The _Antelope's_ crew are all on station, we can punch out as soon as Captain Martius and the others clear the bay doors." The XO looked slightly older than the captain, but just as prematurely aged by situations like this one. His voice was not as enthusiastic as the younger crewmen were in delivering his report.

"Right. Comm., open a channel to Captain Martius."

"Yes Sir!" Called the lanky officer in the far left corner. The moment he keyed open the channel, before Captain Olstad could say a word, the bridge filled with urgent voices cast against a background of explosions and the unmistakable sounds of war. Above the din, some stronger voices overrode the others.

"Leader, this is Mongoose! The last Condor is away and the rest of us have made it to the clearing!"

"Roger Mongoose! Striker, Fox Two, watch the fire coming from that left flank. Ok people, let's get out of here! I want a staged fall back. Dingo, take Ghul and the other lighter 'Mechs back to the mid-point and lay down some cover fire while we back track to your position. As soon as we join you, I want all the lighter units to run for the DropShip. Non-stop, no discussions!"

"If that's the way my Captain wants it, then by Blake that's the way he'll have it!" A voice in a heavy Australian accent blared over the bridge speakers, sounding almost happy!

"Right, use the terrain to our advantage people. If things get hairy just break for the ship! Ok Dingo… GO!"

"Roger, breaking away now. Reverend, watch your 3 o'clock. There's a lot of activity over here." Dingo called in warning as he and the others turned in place and ran for the next line of cover.

"Fox Leader, this is Deliverance," the sound of Captain Olstad's voice made Michelle jump as she was totally absorbed in the back and forth being broadcast from the soldiers outside, she had tuned out the surrounding bridge.

"Roger Deliverance, go ahead," yelled a voice over the din of explosions.

"We stand ready to receive however we cannot provide very adequate cover unless you can break away from the enemy to a safe distance or get within 200 meters of the ship." The worry lines etched into the Captain's face gave her the distinct look of a woman who had nearly outlived her grand children's generation.

"Understood Deliverance." There was a pause, as though the Mercenary leader was considering what to do next. Before he got the chance to respond however the situation seemed to once again lurch into another level of extreme severity.

"INCOMMING!" Shouted the radar officer needlessly, as multiple flights of missiles arched from the enemy battle line, not toward the BattleMechs facing them but rather tracing a high arc toward the grounded DropShip. Several of the bridge crew threw themselves to the floor, but the Captain actually stepped forward with a look of horror etched across her face. Laser powered anti-missile systems reached out to detonate many of the deadly warheads in flight as possible, but with so many targets dozens of missiles wove through the laser web and impacted from just below the bridge clear down to the ground. Just beyond the smoke generated by missile trails and detonations large black shapes took advantage of the distraction and vaulted in low arcs over the main _Privateer_ line cutting off the heavier 'Mechs from the lighter ones who were still running to the next rally point.

The floor of the bridge shook under Michelle's feet as the DropShip gun crews opened up in earnest on the hostile landscape before them. Laser beams probed every avenue of the boulder strewn ground looking for those that dared incur their wrath. Bolts of blue-white lightning blasted everything, including the massive rocks while and nearly endless wave of missiles created a wall of fire along the ridge where the enemy missiles had originated.

Over the bridge speakers, which was still tied into the comm. system, people were yelling and screaming. Through the noise Michelle could only make out bits of conversations, and one voice which seemed to carry an unnaturally calm authority over the others.

"Behind us! Circle 180 and break!"

"line is gone! I can't get back, I'm pulling back toward the DropShip!"

"osst right arm, weapon systems are not cycling! I need cover!"

"All units," the calm voice interjected, "break off and move to the rally point, anyone who cannot rendezvous make straight for the ship. One I'm swinging into a cover position now, break left and clear the next boulder for cover. Striker, pull back and clear a path to the rally point."

The shouts continued as more orders were calmly interjected. Slowly the other voices dissipated as they started following the rapid fire orders from their leader. From the sounds of things the situation was desperate, but improved from the moments just following the sudden assault.

"Dammit!" the Australian accented voice cut in overriding all others, "Ghul is down! I see a parachute! Requesting EVAC!"

A pilot responded immediately and Michelle watched as a helicopter swooped down over the bridge window so closely that she could make out the individual rivets that held the small craft together. The man made bird cut a straight line from the DropShip into the smoke covered battlefield below.

The accented voice continued, "Condor where are you? Those {Naughties} are almost on top of her!"

"Inbound Dingo, we'll be there in 10 seconds."

"Not long enough I'm afraid, I'm going to have to run interference."

"Dingo this is Leader, do not… "

Dingo cut him off mid-sentence, "Sorry Leader, you're breaking up. Anyways, Ghul only needs another 5 or 10 seconds! Dingo, DAMMIT! There's three of them! Bloody Wolverine just tagged my last machine gun! Condor, you'd better hurry! I can only do puppet shows with this flashlight for so long!"

"Roger Dingo, We've got her in our sights, we'll be clear in a 5 count!"

Three bolts of blue-white lightning stretched out from just below the bridge to converge on some unseen point in the smoke cloud, which was followed by a hearty, "Thanks Deliverance, now I've got them one too two, and the others are think'n twice about my little light show!"

"Dingo this is Condor Five we have Ghul and are clear!"

Roger, Five, looks like it time for me to, oh…" The signal went dead with a sudden burst of static.

"Dingo! Dingo, this is Fox One respond!"

"Con, Radar!" The Radar officer called in the strangest voice Michelle had yet heard, like someone standing on their own grave and knowing it. Looking to the left side of the bridge Michelle saw the officer standing with a white knuckled grip on his console. "Multiple bogies in bound coming in high and fast, ETA to firing solution 3 minutes. Blake's blood, we have at least 40 fighters and counting!"

"All units push for the DropShip," the calm voice sounded very tired now.

"Leader, this is Striker they're coming over the left ridge! We're about to be cut off!"

"Roger," Captain Allen Martius began. Then he paused, just a second or two, as he looked around first at his HUD then outside at the smoke choked valley all around them. "Deliverance, you are cleared for take-off.

"Captain, you and the others punch out we can swing over and pick you up" the raw desperation in Captain Olstad's voice carried over the battle comm..

Before she could elaborate on her plea Allen responded softly, "Kris." Missile concussions rocked his Battlemaster and could be heard across the comm.. Allen paused, surveying the field a moment to confirm his next orders were the correct ones. "Kris, we're not going to make it."

"Allen I won't."

"You will. I won't loose anyone else to these {Naughties}. Stand on those thrusters and get our people out of here. That's an order, Captain. My mother was wrong, it just wasn't to be, let's not sacrifice anyone else. Allen out."

Captain Kris Olstad looked around at all the expectant faces on the bridge who had turned her way, finally coming to rest on Michelle and Jennifer. Michelle saw a single tear slide down the Captain's cheek as resolution hardened both her features and eyes.

Allen's voice was strong and clear as he issued his next orders. "Ok people, Once more into the Fray! These Bastards have requested an encore of the performance we gave for the Jade Falcons, let's give it to them. Jess, Wendy, looks like the fates have a role for us to play, let's hope we get better at giving the performance. No matter the out come, it has been an honor and privilege to work with all of you. Now! Privateer's let's show them how a real unit handles combat! ALL UNITS, ENGAGE AT WILL!"


	13. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

**Death's crater, Veiled Mountain Range, Astrokaszy****  
****Periphery ****  
****8 June 3059**

**09:11:00 localtime**

A deep vibration shook the bridge deck, then subsided into a constant throaty pulse as the massive DropShip engines far below channeled a contained nuclear explosion through four thruster exhaust ports forcing thousands of tons of metal into flight. Michelle and Jennifer were thrown backward onto a padded observer's bench recessed into the wall behind them. Aside from the sounds of the engines, and a subdued steady stream of flight information from the ship's navigator, this was the quietest Michelle had ever witnessed any member of the ship's crew, let alone a whole room full of them.

Mind still reeling as she attempted to understand what had just happened, Michelle gazed around the bridge, her eyes resting on each member capturing every detail in the space of two heart beats before moving on to the next. Each face seemed cut from the same stone, cold and hard, frustration in its purest form. White knuckled fists only unclenched long enough to stab at the console in their charge before curling helplessly again. Outside the "window" the landscape was slowly dropping out of view, giving way to the unmarred dazzling electric blue of the Astrokaszy skyline.

_They just sacrificed themselves for us._ The haunting thought came unbidden as Michelle's mind finally found some coherence. _Well, not entirely for us!_ A small but firm voice chided from the back of her mind. _It doesn't matter, if not for us they wouldn't even have been here!_ Michelle thought forcefully back to her inner-self, to which there was no response. Michelle felt hollow in the silence.

"CON, radar! New contact!" The radar officer cried from his console. Both Michelle and Jennifer jumped at the unexpected call that broke the oppressive silence like a whip.

"REPORT!" The Captain and XO barked together.

"New bogie in-bound from the opposite direction of the fighters. She's big… Confirmed! DropShip in-bound, ETA 1.5 minutes!" The XO looked toward the ceiling, eyes wrenched shut at this latest blow.

"What's her trajectory?" The Captain snapped, eyes never wavering from the radar officer.

"She's angling low, damn. They're ignoring us and heading for the Captain's position." The last sentence seemed to be choked through a crumbling resolve. As though it hurt to speak the words. The radar officer suddenly shook himself as though in disbelief, wiped at his eyes with his sleeve and when stark white.

"What?!" yelled Captain Olstad.

"Captain, sensors just confirmed. She's a Clan warbird." This time the radar officers voice was a barely audible squeak.

"Route all available power to the thrusters," Captain Olstad breathed in resignation as she collapsed into her command chair, "get us out of here Navigator."

"Captain?" came a very uncertain voice from a young officer to Michelle's right. Captain Olstad simply turned a weary look on him. "I've got a red light on cargo access hatch 18?"

"What now?" Captain Olstad was on her feet again in an instant, stalking over to the young man's position. "What the?" She started, as she took in the display. Punching a series of keys on the console to her left the ships speaker system cracked with static for a moment before new sounds filled the bridge with the sound of rushing wind.

"Clear, move!" A man's voice shouted over the hurricane force winds.

"What the {Naughty} is going on down there?" Captain Olstad demanded in a bellowing voice that threatened to carry to the cargo hold without the assistance of the comm. system.

"Ahh, Captain, I was wondering how long it would take you to notice." There was a mischievous tone in the shouted voice that seemed to spark recognition.

"Ryan? What the hell are you doing?"

"Sorry Captain, someone has to keep those kids alive. So me and some volunteers thought we'd just nip down and save the day!"

"Ryan, there's a Clan…" Captain Olstad began in a urgent voice.

"I know," Ryan cut the Captain off mid-sentence, "That broke the niffler's back. Get clear, and raise the alarm. I'll do my best to make sure we're all around to get picked up when you get back."

"Roger, I wish I could join you!" The Captain sounded sincere.

"I know you do Kris, Ryan OUT!"

With that the static died, and the red light on the console blinked twice then returned to green.

"Navigator, " the Captain snapped in a voice of renewed confidence, "execute my last order."

In response, the ship seemed to lurch skyward with renewed purpose as the DropShip angled for the heavens.

**Death's crater, Veiled Mountain Range, Astrokaszy****  
****Periphery ****  
****8 June 3059**

**09:11:00 localtime**

Smoke, swirling sand, and explosions turned the battlefield into a man-made storm that rivaled nature's fury of just days before. Only advanced sensors and the Heads Up Display, vital tools of modern war, made any attempt to fight seem possible. Allen's BattleMaster shook under a withering autocannon assault that got cut short as Allen responded with his Long Range PPC. The man-made lightning caused a very real thunder clap to echo through the boulder strewn area, colliding with other cracks of thunder. The deafening whoosh of six Short Range Missiles drowned out all other sounds in the BattleMaster cockpit as they sped off to join the fray. Not that Allen heard any of it. In the heat of battle, shrouded in the fog of war, Allen could only hear his own ragged breath and the pounding of his own heart in his ears.

The battle line had dissolved in an instant as the enemy attempted to both overwhelm the Privateer's position and prevent the escape of the Antelope. The Antelope for her part had extracted a vicious toll on those enemy units that had made it into a clear firing path. But it was not enough to help the stranded 'Mech warriors of the Barrett's Privateers. Separated and alone, each warrior had surrendered conscious thought to instinct and training. No battle plan, nor orders from the unit's leaders, could improve the situation now, so none came. Laser fire burned another ragged line across Allen's battle worn 'Mech causing him to react again. Before the might of Allen's assault 'Mech yet another enemy unit fell, only to be replaced a second later by two more.

Allen was vaguely aware of hearing Yanskoff and his men shouting battle cries to steel their resolve, as one by one the cries of war were replaced by screams of agony cut ominously short. But no sound came from the Privateers. Bravo was for pirates and holovids, not real soldiers fighting for their lives. That's what it all came down to at moments like this, not fighting for king and country, not money and glory. No, simple survival is the only instinct, fleeting hope against all odds, the only emotion. As Allen's subconscious took complete control his mind wandered, unable to cope with all that was occurring to him and those he lead.

_Strange?_ He thought with more amusement than the situation should have allowed, _all battlefields on every world look the same in the thick of battle. Oh today's sand might be tomorrows snow, but day or night you can never see beyond what is right in front of you._

A heavy missile strike shook Allen back to reality, his hands already responding with a counter strike as his conscious mind tried to process this latest threat. In the heat of it all, Allen hadn't heard Ryan's call as the Special Forces descended onto the battlefield. Allen shook his head to clear his foggy mind.

_Either I'm loosing it or I just imagined a Battle Armored soldier tearing into that enemy Warhammer's cockpit off to the left._ With his mind attempting to clarify the situation, a singularly overpowering signal overrode his comm. and pumped a strong clear monotone voice into his ear, causing his jaw to drop.

"Mercenary Allen Martius, this is Star Captain Christopher Showers of Clan Smoke Jaguar…"

If the Star Captain said anything else Allen didn't hear it. Forty Long Range missiles carpet bombed Allen's BattleMaster and his general area, slamming the 85 ton 'Mech into a boulder. Alarms sounded as the wire frame outline of his Battlemaster splashed yellow and red indicating damage to every surface, thankfully thus far no key systems had been destroyed. Ears still ringing, and with no more time to dwell on this latest development, Allen willed his war machine right bringing him into close quarters with a Rifleman IIC that had been angling for a shot. Sweeping his 'Mech's arms in two wide counter circles he smashed aside the Rifleman's deadly arm mounted weapons arrays and loosed his chest mounted lasers at point blank range. The Clan designed Rifleman took the punishment without collapsing, but at an incredible cost of armor which all but vaporized over the smaller 'Mech's entire upper torso. Remembering the reality of these foes, and Wendy's successful tactic in the cave, he followed through with his blocking technique bringing both arms high above his head and brought both of his BattleMaster's massive fists down hard on the Rifleman cockpit.

The Rifleman shuttered for a moment, but did not explode. With the pilot and control systems destroyed the secondary systems simply went into a safety shut down mode, and the mighty war machine became yet another monument to the folly of man's ambitions. Allen thanked every deity he could think of that the trick had worked again. Catching movement on his rear display he immediately loosed a volley from his rear Lasers, tore his 'Mech's hands free of the ruined Rifleman and spun right around a boulder to buy some more time to face the next threat. Unseen and unheard in the heat of combat a massive shadow passed low through the smoke and fire, dropping even darker shadows into the din.

**Desolate Plains, Astrokaszy**

**Wastelands****  
****Periphery ****  
****8 June 3059**

**09:32:21 localtime**

The Officer stood at ramrod attention before the large black desk. Beside him a badly beaten man lay face down bleeding openly on the high polished floor. Two security guards stood just a pace behind the man on the floor.

"Report, " came the deep voice from behind the desk, it's owner never taking his eyes off the man on the floor. In his hand a printout of an intercepted message. The officer made mental note of his superior's expression, cold, impartial like a bird of prey standing over a wounded rodent.

"The artifact is aboard," no reaction, as usual, " The Second battle group - Third battalion reports being heavily engaged by the 'Mechs they have been pursuing and another unit identifying themselves as Clan Smoke Jaguar." The cold eyes moved now to pierce deep into the officer's soul, no words matched the simple yet terrifying motion. "They are reported to be a Trinary in strength with a DropShip and small fighter screen in support. Thus far the Third remains cutoff from the rest of their battle group; no other units have been able to get past the avalanche. Also, the fleet admiral reports two JumpShips have emerged at the Nadir Jump Point. The first arrived 7 hours ago, but immediately went into a stealth mode that made it very difficult to determine it was a JumpShip until two hours ago, the second appeared roughly around that same two hour ago mark. They are still running silent, no attempts have been made to contact anyone in-system, but the latter has been identified as being of Clan origin. We are fairly confident these ships belong to the perspective forces engaged in the Mountains."

With the report's end deafening silence descended on the pristine office. Cold eyes held the officer's gaze for several long heart beats before returning to the specimen on the floor.

"So," The deep smooth bass began. Despite the tone, the sudden break in the silence caused all others, with the exception of the officer, to jump. "You had a simple task. Find out who had the artifact, report, and make _preparations_ for our arrival. You didn't seem to notice the Clan Smoke Jaguar force, whom have been reported through the gossip vids for months! In your incompetence you couldn't even identify the unit harassing Vondrasek's forces! And this!" The voice boomed as it reached a crescendo while waving a paper printout at the broken thing on the floor like a master threatening to use a newspaper to discipline a new puppy. "No doubt Word Of Blake forces will soon arrive as well. This _failure_ nearly cost us the success of our mission!" Without prompting, one of the security guards stepped forward and with his left hand grabbed the prisoner's hair lifting him up to face their master, while drawing his firearm with his right and nestling the muzzle against the back of the bloodied skull.

The Guard looked up expectantly, but the man behind the desk forestalled the soldier's enthusiasm with a simple upheld hand.

"No." The deep voice began slowly and quietly. "No, I have another plan in mind. After our departure this Mercenary unit will relax and take their time in departing. I have little doubt that if they are working with this Jaguar force that the Third battalion will not survive." Dark eyes flicked up to bore into the officer's skull, "Stand ready to execute an honorable discharge for those that remain before we travel beyond an assured range."

"Shall we use the spoil-sport option?" The officer responded crisply, without ever daring to blink.

"No," The man behind the desk began, a mirthless smile working its way across his face. "You," he said, eyes shifting to bear on the broken mass bleeding before him, drawing a shutter that threatened to shake the man from the guard's grasp. "will go and infiltrate this unit. I want to know everything." A seemingly simple request, but those that reported to this man feared such a broad request to which there could be no completely correct answer. "Oh, and the Blakists are correct about Praska." He said, waving the print-out again. "Do not fail me again!" Looking up at the guards he continued in a sharp tone, smile wiped from his face, "Eject this thing from my ship and prepare for immediate departure. Dismissed!"

All those gathered, hastened to vacate their superior's presents. Once the massive doors slid shut the Leader of this battle group turned in his chair to look out over the dazzling azure desert sky and reflect.

_Ryan Praska_ The name rolled like distant thunder through the dark recesses of his mind, stirring up long forgotten memories of a previous life.

"Allan Martius." The name spoken in that smooth deep bass reverberated through the massive office like a death knoll spoken by a sinister god. "We meet again. Your little part in this will no more be forgotten than your speech before the Mercenary Review Board that resulted in the true Privateers being branded as outlaws. Wisely, Ryan has done a masterful job of covering your tracks but now that I know your whereabouts young Martius, I must arrange a proper reunion. So many would _kill _for the opportunity to get together and discuss old times. Myself chief among them." A truly evil grin spread across his face, the man let his eyes refocus on the half-reflection in the window. The image of John Thomson had aged since the last time they'd meet, become wiser and far more powerful.


	14. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

**Death's crater, Veiled Mountain Range, Astrokaszy****  
****Periphery ****  
****8 June 3059**

**10:21:33 localtime**

Silence. It was all over in an instant. The scene drifted through Allen's mind in vivid detail. The battle was pitched and chaotic, it was impossible to tell who was shooting at who through the smoke and fire in the confines of the boulder strewn valley. The targeting computer scrambled when a combination Laser / missile strike savaged his rear armor and heavily impacted the delicate circuitry underneath. Sections of Allen's 'Mech status wireframe kept flashing from yellow to red until the entire picture looked as if the BattleMaster was being boiled. Only the rear armor had gone to black, meaning that section was completely destroyed.

The 'Mech's legs still worked, however, and Allen used them continuously. Keeping the Assault 'Mech's back to the massive boulders as much as possible, Allen fired every remaining weapon as soon as each one cycled. There were too many targets to miss, and his unbroken attack did keep all but the most determined enemy at bay, but there were simply too many. Through it all Allen caught snatches of battle chatter.

"Left, LEFT! Damn! Devil-three is down, I'm pressed on all sides requesting…"

"Come-on ya [Naughties]! I'll fix all yer problems. Ah [Naughty], Devil-one one of 'em is loaded with Inferno rounds. Five is out. AHHHhhh"

"Come sheep and let the Lord's embrace show you the way."

"Reverend, this is Fox One, break left I've got a full load of enlightenment for your congregation."

Suddenly the scene had changed. Allen watched in Horror as the 90 ton Cyclops stepped around the boulder where his latest victim had just vanished. At this range, the pristine Assault 'Mech would simply tear his war ravaged BattleMaster to pieces. Allen loosed a PPC volley and twisted his 'Mech left in a vain attempt to escape the inevitable. Then, without warning, an impossible volley of laser fire probed nearly every available surface of the Cyclops' upper torso. Off to the right the Cyclops stumbled backwards in a most human like semblance of fearful retreat. Allen only had a second to process this new development when a more pressing problem emerged. Twisting his control sticks hard left again, he purposefully slammed his 85 ton 'Mech into the boulder to avoid colliding with the 100 ton Dashi that stepped into the open directly in his escape path.

Ears still ringing from the screeching protest of metal against rock, Allen performed a half back-step throwing his 'Mech's exposed rear torso flat against the boulder. The move gave the appearance of a thief diving against a wall to avoid the gunslinger's notice. On the far side of the Clan assault 'Mech another ominous shadow began to take on an all too familiar form. The Mad Cat obligingly confirmed Allen's suspicion and loosed it's trademark volley of 40 Long Range Missiles into a target behind the retreating Cyclops, quickly following up with a right – left volley of heavy laser fire. A Explosion backlit the Cyclops as the Mad Cat's target exploded under the relentless attack giving the next couple of seconds a surreal effect.

Illuminated by the background explosion the Cyclops took another deadly volley of concentrated laser fire in the midsection. Allen watched, transfixed, as tons of armor simply evaporated under the intense heat. Without pause double streams of high velocity slugs chewed away any remaining armor and began to gnaw deep into the heart of the war machine. The Cyclops pilot finally seemed to recover from the initial shock of the Clan 'Mech and returned fire while twisting hard to prevent further internal damage.

_Too little too late_ was the only thing Allen could think as he watched the scene unfold. Bad luck or lucky angle, it didn't matter for the Cyclops. The instant the pilot began twisting out of harms way, the endless ravaging stream of Ultra Autocannon fire found a soft path to the 'Mech's vital gyro-scope. The Cyclops froze mid step just a second before gyrating like a marionette with half the strings cut. The 'Mech looked as if it might shake itself to pieces. The Dashi, apparently satisfied that this battle was over, side stepped completely cutting off Allen's view of the strange dance as it circled looking for more prey.

Then it happened. The battle was over and the world descended into darkness. Unknown to Allen, all the enemy 'Mechs throughout the valley exploded in unison. The force of the detonation from the 'Mechs in the immediate area flung the 100 ton Dashi like a toy into Allen's BattleMaster and the boulder behind it. The BattleMaster slipped down the boulder coming to rest in a sitting position slumped forward slightly onto the equally immobile Dashi who rested like a child lying on it's side in a parents lap.

**Dropship, Low Orbit - Outbound, Astrokaszy****  
****Periphery ****  
****8 June 3059**

**10:21:33 localtime**

"Thrust steady at three G's, we are in the corridor. Estimated time to clear the atmosphere one minute thirty one seconds."

"Acknowledged, engineering, what's our hull status?"

"Repairs are holding sir!"

"Excellent! Comm. What's the status of the rest of the fleet?"

"Alpha 2 reported some minor problems upon entering the upper atmosphere, but nothing critical. All other departing ships are in formation."

"Right…"

The bridge chatter continued over the dull rumbling of the deck plates as the Officer stood just behind the captain's chair at ram rod attention, despite the bone crushing acceleration. Eyes scanning the various bridge stations like a bird of prey standing in a rodent's den. Eyes that didn't betray the inner turmoil going on in the racing mind behind them. Focusing on the altitude readings he estimated that they were approaching the critical distance, maximum range for assured communication. Turning stiffly to the right he proceeded to a secure communication alcove in strong measured strides meant to inspire the others gathered.

Once alone and secured in the comm. alcove he keyed the sequence that would connect him with the commander of the Third battalion, Second battle group. There was a momentary hiss of static followed by garbled battle speech, then the decryption code engaged turning warped garble into clear speech allowing free communication.

Over the battle chatter the Officer spoke in a strong crisp voice, "Strike Leader, this is Command, respond."

Almost immediately, as was expected from an officer, the response came in the form of a harshly altered female's voice, "Affirmative Command, this is Strike Leader, " then without the need for further preamble, "we have cornered the mercenaries and are decimating their forces." A concussion blast momentarily threatened to sever the communication, but the advanced communication equipment aboard the Strike Leader's Cyclops recovered quickly and the battalion leader continued, "a group identifying themselves as Clan Smoke Jaguar have begun to deploy. We will attempt to overwhelm the mercenary scum quickly then turn our attention on this new threat. What is our status?"

The Officer keyed a series of commands which isolated the communication to himself and the Strike Leader before speaking again. "You are out of bounds." He said solemnly.

"Oh." Was the only initial reply. After several moments of unbroken silence, "Understood Command. It has been an honor and a _pleasure_, " the last word filled with unspoken emotion that carried even through the heavy distortion caused by the battle comm. followed by just a moment's pause in the otherwise expected bravo that would no doubt be reviewed later by the intelligence group. " to serve, Sir!"

His voice failed him for a moment and warbled in barely contained emotion as he gave the appropriate response, "Duty above all. Death in service our only goal." Life in this battle group was hard, disciplined in ways that only the Clans would appreciate, and promised only one release from service.

"We will eradicate these enemies until our _dismissal_. I am about to engage their leader. His Battlemaster is … WHAT THE?!"

A wave of static burst over the comm. followed by the distinct sounds of multiple alarms. The line remained static filled as the Officer's eyes scanned the consoles which had begun displaying telemetry from the Cyclops when one-to-one communication had been established. Before the Officer could speak he had already determined what had caused the alarmed outburst from the Strike Leader and the subsequent static. There emerging from behind a boulder, not 10 meters from the battered Battlemaster Stirke Leader had identified as her target was one of the most fearsome sights on the modern battlefield. A 100 ton Dashi arms and torso alight with an impossible river of Laser fire. The Cyclops wireframe depicted the other side of that devastating salvo, whole sections of the outline shifted from green to red without even pausing at yellow. The speed readout on the HUD registered negative motion as the Strike Leader attempted to back away to cover. The threat indicator chimed as another modern nightmare, the deadly Clan Mad Cat appeared at the Dashi's side. Forty long range missiles vomited from the boxy launchers on either side of the Mad Cat's torso. For a brief moment the Officer thought they were going to decimate the Cyclops before instinct told him they would pass overhead, rippling a wave of relief through his body.

He shook his head to detach himself from the scene unfolding on the monitors. He realized with a start that he was so thoroughly caught up in the latest developments he was as drenched in sweat as if he were the one piloting the besieged 'Mech. He also realized that neither he, nor the Strike Leader had the sense to attempt to return fire. The 'Mech's rear monitors flashed and all the displays shook as something behind the Cyclops exploded spectacularly. The Officer opened his mouth to shout a command even as an endless stream of high velocity slugs drew a line between the Dashi and the Cyclops.

"RETURN FIRE!" The Officer finally managed to scream at the displays. The effect was either instantaneous or the Strike Leader had finally snapped out of the panicked revere at the same moment. The Cyclops fired and twisted hard to distribute the autocannon damage at the same time. The Officer saw the terrible results before the displays began shaking uncontrollably. The 'Mech's gyro flashed red then black. The mighty assault 'Mech began gyrating wildly as the remaining gyroscope ground itself to pieces. In his mind's eye the Officer could picture the internal scene. Deadly shards of the gyroscope shot in all directions shredding the delicate surrounding circuitry. His eyes floated to the correct display just in time to watch the engine shielding flash red, then the battle computer registered imminent core explosion.

Over the comm. the Strike Leader's anguished cries filled the alcove as pieces of the doomed gyroscope penetrated the cockpit. Super hot metal shrapnel tearing through flesh and command chair with far greater ease than it did the rest of the 'Mech. With stiff but decisive strokes the Officer keyed the correct sequence into the console. The comm. again opened up to the entire Third battalion and speaking in the proper clear crisp command voice he said, "Well done Strike Leader, you and your team are _dismissed_." Severing the connection with the dying 'Mech warrior he paused over the blinking acknowledge button just long enough to say, "Good bye my love. " It would not do to broadcast such personal sediment. Then without conscious thought he gently caressed the button.

Suppressing his grief with a shudder, he steeled himself and walked with strong even strides back to his post, meant to inspire the others gathered.

**Death's crater, Veiled Mountain Range, Astrokaszy****  
****Periphery ****  
****8 June 3059**

**10:43:15 localtime**

"Alright R&R is over Captain, time to get back to work." Ryan said with a grunt as he hoisted Allen up through the wide rent in the Battlemaster's cockpit. Two of the Ghost Battle Armor units stood back from the opening they had created to extract their leader after it was found that the rear cockpit entry had been melted into a solid wall.

"Thanks," Allen replied, carefully avoiding putting pressure on his left wrist. With any luck it was just sprained. Standing below on the Dashi was a female Clan warrior fuming at her ruined 'Mech and swearing, with enough creativity to make the Matriarch of Canopus blush, on the cowardly end to the battle. "Heh, perhaps we should get her and Striker together."

Ryan laughed at the thought. "Striker was the only one to survive the explosion with her 'Mech still standing." Allen cast a curious glance at Ryan as he continued. "The Jaguar leader made some comment about adding her to his unit." Allen's eye brows leapt skyward in alarm, but Ryan stalled him with upraised hands. "It's ok, I told him he'd have to face her in a Trial of Refusal. Ha! You should have seen his face! Said something about not loosing anymore of his troops."

Allen just shook his head and laughed, eyes scanning the immediate area to survey the devastation. "So, Striker's 'Mech is still operational?" Ryan nodded in response. "That's something at least! Any other 'Mechs make it?" Ryan had already informed Allen that all personnel had been accounted for, aside from Dingo, when he first arrived.

"No, but it looks like Jess' Maurader and Reverend's Warhammer can be fixed. Ghul got aboard the Antelope but We're still looking for Dingo's Shadow Hawk and the Locust..." Then his voice faltered and faded away at the mention of Dingo. A minute of silence passed as the two comrades at arms quietly reflected on what had been lost in the last couple of days. They both started when Ryan's radio chirped. Fumbling for a second, Ryan keyed his chest mounted mic

"Mongoose here."

"Mongoose, Striker. You won't believe what I found!"

Ten minutes later Ryan and Allen rounded the final boulder to see for themselves. There, just as Striker had promised was Dingo, leaning against the open canopy of the oddly fighter shaped body of a 60 ton Champion, yelling in casual conversation with Striker's Atlas. 20 meters away a blast crater represented all that was left of what appeared to be from the remains a 35 ton Peregrine.

"Capt'n!" Dingo yelled waving in greeting as he spotted the pair walking toward him and looking around in stunned disbelief. "I've got a bone to pick with you, Capt'n!" He exclaimed as he all but free fell down the ladder welded into the Champion's leg.

"What seems to be the problem Dingo?" Allen asked with a mock look of concern painted on his face.

"Our supplies." Dingo answered straight faced, "I left the Wolverine and Clint over behind that rock over there," he said in his Australian accent, jerking his thumb over his shoulder to indicate a rather large boulder. "But the damned Phoenix Hawk got away!" He genuinely sounded disgruntled. Ryan looked up to the looming Atlas with a look of puzzlement as if to try and confirm the wild tale. Wendy was obviously watching closely because over the external speakers her voice boomed.

"It's true! There are two more unexploded enemy 'Mechs just beyond that boulder."

Ryan's head snapped around to regard Dingo, a look of utter confusion engraved on his face. But before he could ask the dozen or so questions that were playing around in his mind Allen spoke.

"Ok, we'll forget our questions for the moment. Tell me Dingo, what's wrong with our supplies?" A truly bemused look on his face as he waited for Dingo's reply.

"No can openers." Dingo said flatly. Ryan's jaw dropped open.

"Can openers?" Allen queried with a laugh.

"Yeah, do you know how hard it is to get one of these things open with just a survival knife? If I'd had a decent can opener that last one mightn't have got away!" Dingo's expression was one of genuine frustration and seriousness. Ryan nearly fell to the ground, doubled over with peals of laughter. Choking back tears Allen called out to the Atlas, "Striker, radio Jess and tell her that from now on all our people and 'Mechs need to be outfitted with one good quality can opener." The only reply was Wendy's laughter which boomed from the Atlas' external speakers and echoed through the valley.

Ryan did manage to pull himself together long enough to ask the one question that simply wouldn't wait, "Ok, ok, so how did you get past the device?"

Dingo turned to him with a grin and said, "I've had a lot of time since I first laid eyes on one of those to figure out the best way to take care of one. Turns out I was right." With that he turned and walked back to the waiting 'Mech. Just before he got there he glanced back at Allen and added, "Oh, Capt'n, maybe we could give this thing to Ghul. It's not bad, but handles like a Locust, I'd rather have the Wolverine."

"You got it Dingo."


	15. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

**Death's crater, Veiled Mountain Range, Astrokaszy****  
****Periphery ****  
****8 June 3059**

**15:38:02 localtime**

A shiver ran down Allen's spine. Not that it was ever cold anywhere on Astrokaszy during the day, but standing just 100 meters from the open boarding ramp of the Smoke Jaguar war ship surrounded by Clan warriors and techs, Allen had the distinct feeling of being naked. Despite the presents of Ryan, 5 Ghost Battle Armor honor guards and the Antelope just 200 meters behind him. The whole area around the Clan ship was a flurry of activity, a massive 'Mech recovery vehicle crawled past just 20 meters to his right, carrying the broken form of the 100 ton Dashi. Field repair gantries, hastily erected in the protective shadow of the DropShip, cradled the Jaguar 'Mechs damaged in the fighting. Everywhere Jaguar troops, both Battle Armored and unarmored, hurried here and there delivering 'Mech repair components or returning supplies to the cargo hold.

As Allen stood at the prearranged meeting spot his mind raced with a storm of thoughts and emotions. His personal feelings about the Clans rebelled against recent developments. _In the end_, he thought, _this meeting needs to happen if for no other reason but to ensure we all get off this rock without letting tensions and suspicion boil over into an open conflict we simply won't survive. _Allen half turned toward Ryan intending to ask him to reconfirm the meeting, his impatience and nervousness threatening to overwhelm him, Ryan nodded toward the Clan DropShip and said, "Here we go."

Turning back to the boarding ramp he spotted the small Jaguar contingent striding with purpose to their position. As they approached Allen felt he could identify the roles of the Clansmen by their dress attire. Clearly most of the group are 'Mech Warriors, their leader out in front was unmistakable. Tall with broad shoulders and a muscular build, despite being a full foot or more taller than Allen he moved with the grace of a feline predator. He was big enough to have been an Elemental, but his outfit was that of a Smoke Jaguar 'Mech warrior. Allen wondered how a man that large ever fit in a 'Mech cockpit. Behind him four other 'Mech warriors marched, steely eyed in his wake. The remaining three members of their contingent were an odd collection to say the least. An Elemental, even larger and bulkier than their commander was taking half steps to stay in formation with his smaller Clansmen. A woman, dressed in Clan spacer fatigues, walking with the uneven gait of a sailor, and finally someone dressed like no Clansmen Allen had ever seen. He wore the ugliest combination of business suit and Clan warrior attire Allen felt he could have imagined. The colors clashed loudly and at odd angles. Stranger still, this badly attired Clan oddity was smiling from ear to ear!

Before Allen could sort out this seeming contradictory Clanner, the Clan leader addressed him while still approaching from 15 paces away.

"Captain Allen Martius, I am Star Captain Christopher Showers of Clan Smoke Jaguar." Stepping right up to Allen at an uncomfortable closeness, the Star Captain offered Allen the slightest of nods. _The use of the work Captain instead of Mercenary is a good sign_ Allen mused, the people of the Clans despised Mercenaries in general.

Allen returned the nod in kind, "Greetings Star Captain, it is good to put a face to the voice." Allen kept his voice even and specifically avoided using contractions as he spoke, out of difference to the Clan tradition and owing in no small part to the military advantage the Jaguars currently enjoyed.

"Have you been able to determine if these honorless dogs are from the Not Named Clan?" The intense Clan warrior asked without further preamble.

_Straight to the point, just as well_ Allen thought as he responded, "No, Dingo didn't leave anyone to question and their 'Mechs don't seem to have any positively identifying clues to their origin. I can tell you that they possess both Clan and modern Inner Sphere technology. How they obtained both in nearly equal measure is a complete mystery. Who ever they are they do not live far away."

The Clan leader's furrowed his brow in concentration for a moment before continuing, his voice taking a more conversational tone, "Yes, we have come to the same conclusions. Or more precisely, lack of conclusions."

"The most puzzling part of all of this," Ryan chimed in, "is what they were doing here. If this was the rogue Clan who are hated enough by all the others that you would probably stop your drive into the Inner Sphere and, as a group, pursue them across the galaxy, then what was important enough to come to Astrokaszy? They could have avoided the cities altogether, like you were trying to do, if they were after the rumored Star League cache." At the mention of their failed attempt at being discrete the Clan leader's head snapped around to glare at the man in the ugly suit. Allen realized with a start, this was the same Clan business man they'd captured in the forest. _I'll be damned!_ Allen thought with a chuckle he couldn't completely suppress, _he's found a suit worse than he was wearing when we found him! _

Ryan continued, "Nothing makes sense, yet. I suspect if we discover why they were here we will have a better clue as to who they are."

The Clan Elemental spoke up before his leader could respond, talking to Allen and Ryan over the heads of his compatriots. "They could be covering their tracks," he said simply.

When it was obvious he wasn't going to add any thing else, Ryan asked the obvious question, "What do you mean?"

The mighty Clansmen eyed Ryan closely and added," if they are of the Not Named Clan, and someone here had learned of them, they would likely stop at nothing to erase all trace of themselves. They are butchers after all."

"Possibly," Ryan admitted, "we will need to learn some more before I will accept that answer though, no offense to your historical account of your rogue Clan. Frankly there are enough butchers in the Periphery, some of them right here on Astrokaszy, that I doubt they would stand out." Ryan trailed off in thought.

"In any case, slaughtering these animals was a worthy cause, perhaps we can agree to advise each other if any more is learned" the Clan leader interjected. The look of surprise on Allen's face couldn't be contained. Flabbergasted he simply grunted out an acceptance. The Star Captain paused, in a most un-Clan like awkward way, then addressed Allen, "Business man Jason Kotare related some, ahh, unsettling news." He began, but Ryan got there before he could finish.

"The reformation of the Star League, and the attack on Clan Smoke Jaguar." Ryan said in a flat tone. The collective Clanners pierced Ryan with looks of intensity, some angry, some openly challenging, others like the Star Captain, deeply concerned.

"Yes, is it true?" The Star Captain asked, measuring every inch of Ryan's expression for deception as he responded.

"Yes, " Ryan meet each Clanner in the eye, confirming with steeled eyes more completely than words could ever hope to, "last month the reformed Star League Defense Force invaded the Inner Sphere worlds held by Clan Smoke Jaguar. I guess you'd be out of contact with your Clan, given your mission. Astrokaszy doesn't have a HPG station so the news probably won't be wide spread here for at least a couple of months yet." Offering an unprompted explanation as to why the business man had not been able to provide the information to his superiors before his capture. From the look on his face the gesture was not unappreciated.

"I see, " The Star Captain began slowly, but then in a tone that was gaining momentum he addressed his contingent, "Then we are late to war. This, " he said holding out what appeared to be a comm. module to Allen, "will provide you the necessary means to contact me should you learn more of these honorless butchers."

Allen took the offered device with a simple, "We will, you can get a message to us easily enough, I assume, should you learn more." The Star Captain offered a curt nod. "Right then, we each have our tasks. Star Captain." Allen offered with a parting salute, which, to his surprise the Clansman returned.

Both groups parted ways and headed toward their respective DropShips. Ryan made it only two paces however before the Clan Business man caught up with him. "My thanks," he said quietly as his fellow Clansman and the Privateer group both turned in surprise to regard his strange break of protocol. Then, in a tone that was pure salesman, he added loud enough for everyone within 50 meters to hear, "If you have just a few minutes Ryan Praska, I'm sure we can be of some assistance to each other." Ryan's look of confused panick as the Clan business man swept him aside with an arm around his shoulder had Allen chuckling to himself all the way back to the Antelope.

**Death's crater, Veiled Mountain Range, Astrokaszy****  
****Periphery ****  
****8 June 3059**

**15:44:02 localtime**

"Remind me again John, why do I do this for a living?" Chris complained as he tried for the third time to coax the uncooperative crawler wench to drag the Shadow Hawk wreck onto the crawler deck.

"For the glory." John replied looking up at Chris from the other side of the deck, face covered in thick oil from a recently fixed lubricate line attached to the sand crawler load mechanism. As Chris stared to laugh at John's plight a small movement by the rock out cropping 10 meters behind Chris caused John to cry out, "Watch out!"

Chris abandoned the wench controls and dove to the ground as John pulled his side arm and took aim. John strained his eyes to examine the place where he had seen the movement, there by the bottom of the rock was a hand and forearm, stained crimson by drying blood, moving slightly. Cautiously, John and Chris, who had quickly gathered up his submachine gun, approached the bloody appendage. Chris provided cover as John dove past the out cropping coming up to one knee pointing his hand gun. There on the ground was a man in his late thirties wearing the tattered rags of what looked to have once been the finery of a successful businessman.

"Damn, it's a local, and he looks like he's hurt bad. Call for help." John leaned in to see what he could do until the medics arrived.

**Death's crater, Veiled Mountain Range, Astrokaszy****  
****Periphery ****  
****9 June 3059**

**09:24:54 localtime**

"My thanks to you and your fine medical staff Captain!" The businessman nearly leapt off the gurney and grabbed Allen's hand as he entered the infirmary.

"Lie down!" The head nurse barked, firmly guiding the man back to the gurney, "Sorry Captain, this is .."

"Lyal Harris, owner of Lyal's Rare Goods on Canopus!" The business man finished, trying again in vain to grasp Allen's hand. Allen reached out and shook the man's hand out of courtesy, before responding.

"Pleased to meet you Mr. Harris. You wanted to speak to me?"

"YES, Yes! I suddenly desire to leave this place, as I'm sure you can understand. I can pay handsomely if you can accommodate one more passenger."

"Well, " Allen began, but Ryan responded stepping through the door behind him. There was something, a flash like recognition for a second in Harris' eyes, almost like alarm. But it was gone in an instant. Allen wondered if he'd actually seen it or not.

"Well," Ryan began, "First perhaps you'd like to tell us how you came to be here?"

"Oh! Of course! I fled with the others from Astrokaszy City into the storm, I was told about our encounter with your mercenary group and the resulting plan by some of the City council members after you departed. Half a day later myself and several others got separated from the main group after someone claimed to have seen more battle machines. We all scattered, but in the storm myself and some others from off world never got our bearings back. Only the damned locals seem to be able to know where they're going on this infernal world! Anyway, we made it to a mountain range, next thing I know there are hundreds of battle machines, 'Mechs I believe you call them. They were everywhere, we tried to find someplace to hide.

Four of our group were gunned down by the 'Mechs. Then! I had just dove into a cave when all of a sudden they exploded! It took a day to dig my way out. Injured and delirious the only thing I could focus on was the tour guide telling me when I first arrived that up in the mountains there is water, so, instead of wandering back out into the desert, or waiting in the cave to die I started to climb. The rest I'm afraid is a little fuzzy. Seems, I took a more serious blow to the head than I original thought during my short time in the cave. Next thing I know I woke up here, in the tender care of your fine medical staff!"

Ryan verified as much as he could with the medical staff and the two soldiers who found him. He could find nothing to refute Lyal's claims so he left the rest to Allen. For his part, Allen, despite hearing the attending physician's professional determination that Lyal had "taken a hell of a beating," Allen turned Captain Oldstad loose on him to negotiate the price of his transportation. Scuttlebutt amongst the crew had it that the Captain didn't take his injuries or alternatives into account during their negotiations. In fact, if rumors were to be believed, the Antelope was getting a complete overhaul with cash to spare, although, tragically, Lyal's wallet died after what doctors later described as "an inhumane act of senseless violence."

**Death's crater, Veiled Mountain Range, Astrokaszy****  
****Periphery ****  
****11 June 3059**

**07:58:00 localtime**

"We are T minus 2 to lift off, all lights are green Captain!" The Antelope's XO called out in a clear brisk voice.

"Let's hope she stays together then," Captain Olstad muttered under her breath, just loud enough for the XO and Allen to hear. Then in a louder voice she added, "Very well, let's get these young ladies home," She through a glance over her shoulder at the two belted into an alcove behind her and offered a genuine smile and wink of reassurance. Keying the ship wide mic. she boomed, "All hands prepare for lift off, " she absently mindedly swatted for the mic button again but stopped half way to the console, thought for a moment, then leaned in close to the mic and added, "Oh, and if there's so much as turbulence on the way out I want someone to eject all the _engineers_ out the nearest hatch!" With a vicious stab she cut the comm.. People all over the ship swore that MacGillivray's deep hearty laughter passed through the bulk heads and could be heard by the nearby Clanners as well.

"Major?" There are never two captains on a single ship, so Allen was given the honorary title of Major while traveling aboard the Antelope.

"At your leisure Captain, let's get out of here!" Allen responded with a smile.


	16. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

**Kaufmann Mining facility, Mica 1, Mica Majority State****  
****Periphery ****  
****20 October 3059**

**05:24:12 localtime**

Michelle walked the familiar halls of her father's mining company, letting the safety of memories wash away the horrors of her ordeal.

"Curse that {Naughty}! I hope he's rotting in Hell!" She screamed at the empty walls and emotionless machinery. Rounding the final corner into the automated extraction area, her personal refuge as she grew up, she stopped, shock still, mouth open.

"No such luck, I'm afraid." The clean shaven man wearing a crisp, expensive, Draconian style business suit said calmly. He wore the warm smile of a father who had just happened upon his wayward child in a busy space port.

Michelle was frozen in fear beyond speech, beyond screaming. One thought kept going over and over in her mind. _Him? Here? He's dead! He can't be here!_

"Oh don't look so surprised my dear. Katherine isn't the first House Lord to take a swing at me. And I believe repayment for her kindness is in order, don't you think?"

"Oh I know what you're thinking, our innocent, little Katherine couldn't possibly. But despite what you believe of me, I assure you it was her."

_Her? Her who? What's he saying?_

"Now, if you'll give me back your going away gift, I'll be on my way." He pointed to the necklace he had placed around her neck, forgotten until she was safely at home, and kept as a reminder to be more careful in the future.

Michelle remained frozen, memories too painful to fathom kept her rooted to the floor. Unable to scream, unable to run, unable to simply pass out. Her mind recorded the conversation without processing any of it.

"You see, I had already discovered the meaning of the data, now stored in that necklace, just before I learned that the attack forces were coming. Killing Hanse and Melissa, naughty girl. And they call me an animal." He remarked as he stepped forward and, with the swift movement of a professional street thief, removed the necklace, "Thank you," he said with a wink. With that he turned to leave.

"AREN'T YOU HERE TO KILL ME!" Michelle shrieked in indignation and rage.

Half turning and wearing that same warm smile he remarked, "my dear, if I was here to kill you you'd already be dead. I can see the challenge in your eyes, born of proper fear, but then I love a challenge. No I would prefer us to meet again. Besides, thanks to this," he held up the necklace and swung it dauntingly in front of her, "I believe you and I are going to be having the same, Ahh, difficulties." With that he disappeared through a side door, that Michelle, after all the years of exploring this sanctuary, had never known existed.


End file.
